Three  Speeds 
Forward 


Lloyd 
Osbourne 


ility 


LIBRARY 

University  of  California 
IRVINE 


THREE  SPEEDS   FORWARD 


What  he  said  can't  be  repeated." 

[Page  81.] 


THREE  SPEEDS  FORWARD 


An  Automobile  Love  Story  with 
One  Reverse 

'By 
LLOYD   O_SBOURNE 

Author  of  7rBaby  Bullet," 
"Wild  Justice" 


D.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY 
NEW    YORK  MCMVI 


COPYRIGHT,  1906,  BY 
THE  RIDGWAY-THAVER  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  1906,  BY 
D.   APPLETON   AND   COMPANY 


Published,  September,  1906 


CONTENTS 


I. — HEART-THROBS 


PAGE 

I 


II. — THE  MAN  THAT  MADDENED 

A  CONTINENT     ....     17 

III. — CHEWING  UP  THE  LOW-GEAR    35 
IV. — OLAFF  SPEAKS  OUT     ...     45 

V. — THE    HOBGOBUNEST    PLACE 

ON  THE  MAP      .     .     .     .     61 

VI.— THE    G.    R.    A.   T.    TO    THE 

RESCUE 77 


VII. — CASHING  IN 


93 


VIII. — THREE  YEARS  AFTERWARDS.     97 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


FACING 
PAGE 

"What  he  said  can't  be  repeated." 

Frontispiece. 

"  'Why  do  all  you  people  dislike  me  so 

much?' "      .........      26 

"  '  You  and  I  have  got  to  be  friends  !  '"  .     90 
xi 


HEART-THROBS 


HEART-THROBS 

HADN'T  been  engaged  to  Charlie 
Lepperts  a  week  before  I  began  to 
suspect  my  mistake.  I  spent  a  sec 
ond  week  making  allowances,  and 
doing  my  best  to  see  his  "  good  side."  At  the 
end  of  the  third  week  I  decided  he  hadn't 
any,  and  by  the  fourth  we  were  at  daggers 
drawn.  I  don't  know  how  I  ever  got  my 
self  into  such  a  silly  tangle.  It  wasn't  alto 
gether  my  fault,  and  you  must  remember,  be 
sides,  I  was  only  nineteen,  and  a  good  deal 
of  a  kid.  It  all  came  about  through  his  being 
3 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


boomed  in  advance,  and  all  of  us  having  made 
up  our  minds  that  he  was  the  biggest  prize  in 
the  young-man  line  that  was  ever  likely  to 
come  our  way. 

Then,  too,  his  father  and  mother  were  quite 
the  nicest  people  in  Studdingham,  and  they 
shed  a  tone  over  us  all,  that  papa  said  enhanced 
the  value  of  real  estate  from  here  to  Wiskigee. 
They  were  not  only  rich,  for  we  were  all  that, 
more  or  less — Tonyham  and  Richville  being 
the  slang  names  for  Studdingham  outside — but 
they  were  tremendously  cultured  and  refined, 
and  good  form  to  us  always  meant  what  the 
Lepperts  said  and  did.  The  State  was  a  pretty 
new  State,  and  this  idea  of  being  "  smart  "  had 
only  struck  us  yesterday ;  and  so  it  was  natu 
ral  for  the  rest  of  us  to  venerate  people  who 
had  used  finger  bowls  for  three  generations, 
and  had  struggled  with  butlers  and  liveried 
footmen,  when  people  like  papa  were  eating 
out  of  tin  plates,  and  pioneering  railroads 
through  the  alkali. 

Of  course,  I  don't  blame  the  Lepperts  for 

4    -: 


Heart-  Throbs 


having  boomed  Charlie  in  the  way  they  did. 
He  was  their  only  son,  and  who  could  find 
fault  with  them  for  thinking  him  a  paragon? 
They  were  forever  talking  about  him,  and 
bragging  about  him,  and  making  us  all  crinkle 
with  suspense  and  anticipation.  Whenever 
there  were  four  or  five  of  us  girls  together, 
Mrs.  Lepperts  would  say,  in  that  arch  and 
gracious  manner  that  always  reminded  pass 
ing  Englishmen  of  Queen  Victoria :  "  Ah,  who 
of  you  little  buds  is  going  to  capture  Prince 
Charlie  ?  "  And  a  tiny  voice  inside  me  always 
answered — to  myself,  of  course — "  Why,  I  am, 
to  be  sure !  "  And  so  the  situation  was  ripe 
for  what  actually  happened  when  he  did  come. 
I  went  into  the  scramble  head-down,  and 
didn't  really  have  a  good  look  at  the  prize  till 
after  I  had  grabbed  it. 

Then  the  disillusion  came,  and  the  rupture 
and  the  fuss  and  the  gossip  and  the  heart 
break  generally.  He  was  nice  enough  to  look 
at,  though  rather  pale,  and  aggravatingly  lan 
guid  and  superior.  Much  more  of  a  gentle- 
3  5 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


man  outside  than  in,  and  therefore  deceptive. 
Sixteen  coats  of  piano  varnish — but  the  chassis 
of  a  cad.  Indeed,  when  he  tried,  he  could  be 
very  charming;  and  he  caught  our  eye  by  his 
showy  horsemanship,  his  unmistakable  ele 
gance  and  fashion,  and  a  deprecatory  fastidi 
ousness,  as  of  a  prince  in  exile,  condemned  to 
make  the  best  of  a  social  Siberia.  He  had  a 
knack  for  insinuation  ;  and  while  it  was  impos 
sible  to  pin  him  down  to  any  straight-out  lies, 
he  was  the  worst  slanderer  and  mischief- 
maker  that  ever  lived.  That's  where  I  came 
in,  you  know,  for,  after  we  had  broken  it  off, 
he  deliberately  set  himself  to  get  even — start 
ing  those  little  snowballs  that  grow  as  they 
run,  till  you  find  yourself  dodging  mountains. 

Not  that  I  knew  anything  of  this  till  later — 
very  soon  later,  I  can  assure  you.  All  I  did 
was  to  tell  him,  quite  simply,  that  I  had  made 
an  awful  mistake,  and  didn't  seem  to  like  him 
nearly  as  much  as  I  thought  I  had ;  and  then 
I  went  off,  and  proceeded  to  break  my  heart. 
No,  not  for  him — the  idea! — but  from  shame 
6 


Heart-  Throbs 


and  misery  at  having  made  such  a  little  fool 
of  myself,  and  given  rise  to  such  hurricanes 
of  chatter.  And,  more  than  anything,  at 
Charlie's  misrepresenting  the  affair,  as  though 
it  had  been  his  doing,  instead  of  the  other  way 
about.  And  as  I  was  too  proud  and  shy  and 
hurt  to  contradict  it,  I  was  exposed  to  the 
worst  thing  of  all — people  being  sorry  for  me, 
and  old  cats  saying,  "  What  a  narrow  squeak 
that  poor,  dear  boy  had !  " 

Then  I  began  to  have  headaches  and  die 
away,  till  the  doctors  said  I'd  have  to  go  on  a 
sea  voyage,  or  East  on  a  visit  to  my  aunt's. 
I  wasn't  so  terribly,  awfully,  dreadfully,  hor 
ribly  sick,  but  I  didn't  eat  much,  and  lay  a  lot 
on  the  sofa,  and  thought  how  nice  it  would 
be  to  have  a  runabout.  This  was  an  old  fight 
between  papa  and  me.  I  had  wanted  one  for 
years,  and  he  had  objected  to  one  for  years; 
and  now,  at  last,  like  Sindbad  in  the  tunnel, 
I  began  to  see  gleams  of  daylight.  What  was 
the  use  of  always  rubbing  in  our  big  four- 
cylinder  Dauntless?  The  manufacturers  had 
7 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


told  papa  that  if  he  had  a  coachman,  that  was 
all  the  care  it  needed ;  and  so  it  was  given  over 
to  Albert,  whose  one  idea  was  to  shine  it  up 
beautifully  and  keep  it  tight  in  the  barn.  In 
the  morning  he  took  papa  to  the  railway  sta 
tion,  three  miles  off,  and  called  back  for  him 
every  afternoon  at  five ;  and  this  baby-carriage 
performance  was  supposed  to  leave  it  ex 
hausted  for  all  the  intervening  hours.  On 
Sundays,  Albert  would  take  us  all  for  a  sol 
emn  drive  on  the  second  speed,  and  if  we  cov 
ered  forty  miles,  he  acted  as  though  we  had 
crossed  the  continent.  Between  papa,  who 
was  mortally  afraid  of  Albert,  and  Albert, 
who  was  mortally  afraid  of  the  car,  our 
bubbling  was  a  good  deal  of  the  hearsey- 
hearse  order,  and  not  as  satisfying  as  a  ride 
on  the  trolley. 

What  I  wanted  was  a  little  car  of  my  own, 
in  a  little  house  of  my  own,  with  my  own 
grease,  my  own  cotton  waste,  my  own  gaso 
line  supply — and  all  this  as  far  away  from  Al 
bert  as  it  could  possibly  be  put.  And  the  sicker 
8  ~- 


Heart—  Throbs 


I  got  the  more  I  wanted  it,  till  finally  papa,  in 
sheer  desperation,  handed  down  the  moon,  and 
an  expert  came  from  Wiskigee  to  teach  me 
how  to  run  it.  It  was  a  little  Maxwell,  ten- 
horse,  horizontal  double-opposed,  speeding  up 
to  thirty-five  miles  on  the  level,  everything 
incased,  and  the  cooling  thermo-syphon.  I 
took  bounds  of  recovery  from  that  moment, 
and  a  fresh  bound  every  time  I  managed  to 
coax  an  extra  out  of  papa.  A  bound  for  my 
baskets,  a  bound  for  my  Jones  speedometer,  a 
bound  for  my  Latham  spirals,  a  bound  for  my 
search  lights,  and  two  more  for  a  yellow  Cape 
top  and  a  new  coil,  found  me  so  pink  and  well 
that  I  was  forced  to  buy  two  wet  cells  out  of 
my  poor  little  allowance.  (Don't  you  prefer 
voltage  batteries?  7  do.) 

I  was  in  the  mood  when  people  were  a  tor 
ment  to  me,  and  I  wanted  to  get  away  from 
everything  and  everybody.  Studdingham  was 
so  small  that  there  wasn't  room  in  it  for  a  pair 
that  hated  each  other  as  much  as  I  and  Charlie 
Lepperts.  Had  he  been  any  way  a  gentleman, 
9 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


he  would  have  gone  away,  but  he  stayed  in 
stead,  and  so  it  fell  to  me  to  get  out  into  the 
tall  grass.  At  dinners,  dances,  picnics — every 
where — there  was  always  Charlie  Lepperts 
with  his  pale  face  and  sneering  smile ;  and 
though  I  bore  up  well  enough  when  I  had  to, 
these  meetings  humiliated  me,  and  I  grew 
more  and  more  to  avoid  them. 

At  last  I  drew  out  entirely,  and  people 
learned  it  was  no  use  inviting  me.  I  preferred 
to  whisk  about  all  day  in  my  little  Maxwell, 
with  seldom  any  other  company  than  my  dog 
Olaff  and  a  spare  tire.  But  when  a  girl 
is  badly  hurt — heart  hurt — she  instinctively 
turns  to  doing  good.  When  you  are  happy,  I 
suppose  it  is  too  big  a  bore,  and  it's  an  old 
saying  that  misery  loves  company.  Studding- 
ham  was  a  very  poor  field  for  philanthropy, 
but  I  chased  up  a  pimply  orphan,  took  Mrs. 
Agnew's  trained  nurse  for  a  few  rides,  and 
discovered  an  exasperating  nursery  governess 
who  was  convalescing  from  typhoid.  Not  that 
I  spent  my  whole  time  doing  good,  but  at  long 
10 


Heart-  Throbs 


intervals,  when  I  felt  unusually  discouraged  or 
sad.  As  a  rule,  I  wasn't  either,  and  then 
couldn't  be  bothered — spinning  all  day 
through  the  prettiest  country  imaginable,  with 
my  honest  old  Olaff  on  the  seat  beside  me,  and 
my  tireless  little  engine  going  chi-chi-chi-chi 
under  its  hood.  How  soothing  and  sweet  that 
sound  is  to  anyone  who  has  the  ear  for  it — 
the  unfailing  explosion,  the  consciousness  of 
perfect  mixture,  the  humming  of  the  coils,  and 
the  rhythm  of  a  beautifully  balanced  reciproc 
ity !  Chi-chi-chi-chi,  till  you  are  lulled  into 
dreams,  and  the  wind  against  your  cheek 
seems  to  fan  away  all  the  little  cares  and  heart 
aches  of  a  dreary  world.  You  see,  I  invari 
ably  strained  my  gasoline  through  chamois 
leather,  and  thus  eliminated  carburetor  trou 
bles  entirely.  If  people  would  always  take 
the  trouble  to  do  this  religiously,  and  keep 
their  terminals  tight,  and  not  grudge  a  few 
dollars  for  a  voltameter,  they'd  eliminate 
most  of  the  troubles  connected  with  a  chug- 
cart. 

II 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


It  was  a  strange  life  for  a  girl  to  lead — one, 
I  mean,  who  had  been  so  popular  and  had 
gone  everywhere,  and  had  counted  for  so 
much  in  the  gayeties  of  Studdingham,  Some 
of  the  boys  didn't  seem  able  to  get  used  to  it 
at  all,  and  pretended  to  be  awfully  cut  up — 
which  was  nice  of  them,  and  a  compliment — 
though  it  wasn't  enough  to  get  the  canary 
back  into  the  cage.  I  was  out  of  humor  with 
the  things  I  used  to  like,  and  kind  of  man- 
hating  and  moody ;  and  I  wouldn't  have  traded 
Dandy  Dick  (which  was  the  name  I  called  the 
Maxwell  car)  for  a  full-fledged  prince,  with 
an  ancestral  castle  and  curly  hair.  No,  I 
wanted  to  be  alone,  and  free  to  bubble-bubble- 
bubble  from  morn  till  night,  and  recover  in 
the  open  air  and  trees  something  that  I 
seemed  to  have  lost. 

Of  course,  I  was  alive  to  the  romantic  side 
of  it,  and  didn't  spare  any  pains  to  look  as 
pretty  as  I  could,  and  wear  the  most  killing 
clothes.  Dropping  out  absolutely,  and  yet 
remaining  conspicuous — every  day  sizzling 
12  - 


Heart-  Throbs 


through  the  friends  I  had  long  ceased  to  have 
anything  to  do  with,  except  to  tootle  them  out 
of  the  road  and  drown  them  in  the  exhaust. 
Morbid,  if  you  like,  but  tremendously  sooth 
ing  and  soul-sustaining,  for  you  can't  really 
enjoy  being  a  recluse  unless  there  are  stacks 
of  people  looking  on.  Perhaps  you'll  think  I 
was  posey  and  silly.  It  may  be  that  I  was.  It 
is  hard  for  a  girl  to  be  a  hundred  per  cent 
sincere,  when  ninety-eight  per  cent  of  her  is 
numb,  like  the  poor  wretches  hypnotists  run 
pins  into ;  and  I  guess  all  my  top  skin  was 
frozen. 

I  was  still  comfortably  enjoying  the  sensa 
tion  I  was  making,  when  Studdingham,  with 
the  fickleness  of  all  audiences,  suddenly  con 
centrated  its  attention  elsewhere.  A  person 
named  George  Marsden  popped  into  public 
notice  and  shook  the  foundations  of  society 
by  coming  to  live  with  us.  I  mean,  he  bought 
the  great  big  splendid  Howard  place,  that  had 
been  shut  up  for  years,  and  got  ahead  of  the 
Vincents,  who  had  been  slowly  negotiating  for 
4  13 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


it  for  six  months.  Now,  everybody  wanted 
the  Vincents.  Jim  Vincent's  sister  had  mar 
ried  the  Duke  of  Porchester,  and  they  were 
horribly  important  and  swell,  and  we  had 
watched  them  through  all  the  stages  of  com 
ing  to  Studdingham,  liking  Studdingham,  fall 
ing  in  love  with  Studdingham,  and  finally  an 
nouncing  their  determination  to  live  and  die 
in  Studdingham.  It  seemed  they  couldn't  do 
the  last  two  unless  they  bought  the  Howard 
place,  which  was  a  dream  of  everything  mossy, 
aristocratic,  and  beautiful,  with  terraced  gar 
dens,  and  stables  a  mile  big.  And  they  were 
not  only  horribly  important,  as  I  have  al 
ready  said,  but  so  gay  and  young  and  un 
affected  and  sociable  that  we  adored  them  for 
themselves. 

Imagine  the  feelings  of  Studdingham,  there 
fore,  when  this  Marsden  creature  walked  up, 
planked  down  his  check,  and  insolently 
slammed  the  door,  so  to  speak,  in  the  faces 
of  the  Vincents,  whose  furniture  was  on  the 
way,  and  who  were  confidently  waiting  for 
14 


Heart-  Throbs 


the  Howard  trustees  to  snip  thirty  thousand 
off  the  price.  And  so  Mr.  Marsden  arrived, 
quite  unconscious  that  a  frenzied  community 
was  thirsting  for  his  blood,  and  modestly  in 
stalled  himself  in  the  powder  magazine. 


II 


THE  MAN  THAT  MADDENED  A 
CONTINENT 


II 


THE    MAN    THAT    MADDENED    A    CONTINENT 

TUDDINGHAM  was  one  of 
those  swagger  little  places  that 
had  been  taken  care  of  before 
it  was  born.  You  couldn't 
build  a  house  that  cost  less  than  ten  thou 
sand  ;  you  couldn't  sell  liquor,  open  a  shop 
or  hotel,  manufacture  anything,  teach  music, 
keeps  pigs,  burn  soft  coal,  expose  adver 
tisements,  dig  wells  or  cesspools,  mine,  or 
generate  acetylene  gas.  Forty  lawyers  had 
spent  years  in  tying  the  infant  Studding- 


Three  Speeds  forward 


ham  into  bow-knots,  and  concocting  what 
papa  called  "  a  deed  of  don'ts."  Their  suc 
cess  had  been  a  matter  of  general  congratula 
tion,  and,  after  nine  years,  it  was  left  to 
this  Marsden  to  find  a  crack  in  the  legal  wall. 
He  was  the  manufacturer,  proprietor,  and  in 
ventor  of  the  Bo-peep  Puzzle ! 

You  surely  remember  it?  Twelve  little 
Noah's-ark  sheep,  and  a  dolly  shepherdess, 
and  a  checkerboard  with  three  kinds  of 
squares — with  an  unintelligible  book  of  direc 
tions,  and  the  look  of  its  being  childishly  sim 
ple — till  you  took  it  up  in  a  weak  moment, 
and  did  nothing  else  for  the  next  six  months ! 
No  doubt  you  went  crazy  over  it,  like  the  rest 
of  us,  and  bo-peeped  and  bo-peeped  till  your 
brains  curdled !  I  know  I  did,  and  papa,  and 
everybody;  and  we  used  to  see  his  picture  in 
the  ends  of  the  magazines,  with  big  letters 
under  it,  calling  him,  "  The  Man  that  has 
Maddened  a  Continent ! "  A  nice  recruit, 
wasn't  he,  for  poor  little  Studdingham,  with 
red-hot  aspirations  for  refinement  and  good 

20 


The  Man  that  Maddened  a   Continent 

form,  and  only  just  beginning  to  attract  people 
like  the  Vincents ! 

Of  course,  we  had  had  undesirables  before, 
but  we  had  chased  them  out  very  easily.  They 
were  usually  simple-minded  parvenus,  who 
thought  they  had  only  to  buy  a  house  in  order 
to  tuck  in  socially.  When  they  discovered 
they  had  invested  their  money  in  a  mausoleum, 
they  were  as  eager  to  go  as  we  were  to  speed 
them,  and  the  even  tenor  of  our  aristocratic 
way  was  not  long  disturbed.  But  the  man 
that  had  maddened  a  continent  gave  us  no 
such  handle  to  expel  him.  He  had  come  to 
bury  himself  in  the  great  empty  rooms  of  the 
Howard  place,  and  think  up  fresh  mind- 
rackers  in  its  noble  seclusion.  Ostracizing 
him  seemed  rather  an  ineffectual  weapon,  and 
the  situation,  if  it  were  to  be  relieved  at  all, 
plainly  called  for  something  more  drastic. 
Anyway,  Studdingham  was  simply  boiling 
over  with  fury ;  and  when  the  Vincents  packed 
up  and  left,  they  were  in  the  humor  to  tear 
him  limb  from  limb. 

0  21 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


Papa  was  the  angriest  of  the  lot,  which  was 
all  the  more  to  his  credit,  as  he  was  by  no 
means  a  highflyer,  and  rather  pooh-poohed  the 
snobbishness  of  the  place.  In  fact,  he  had 
only  settled  there  originally  because,  as  he 
said,  "  they  all  looked  so  clean  and  happy." 
He  was  a  born  suburbanite,  and  would  have 
lapsed  to  shirt  sleeves  and  a  watering  pot  if 
we  hadn't  sternly  headed  him  off — one  of  those 
men  who  spend  all  day  in  ruling  a  large  cor 
poration  with  a  rod  of  iron,  and  then  return 
home  in  the  evening  to  domestic  servitude.  In 
the  newspaper  caricatures  he  was  usually  en 
gaged  in  throttling  the  State,  or  cramming  his 
pockets  full  of  legislators,  and  you  wouldn't 
have  thought  he  was  afraid  to  say  "  Boo !  "  to 
the  cook. 

I  don't  know  why  he  had  taken  such  an 
impulsive  liking  to  the  Vincents.  As  a  rule, 
he  had  a  lazy  indifference  for  newcomers,  and 
let  mamma  and  me  do  all  the  pioneer  work  of 
making  their  acquaintance  and  sizing  them  up. 
Even  in  our  little  convulsions  he  was  always 

22 


The  Man  that  Maddened  a  Continent 

the  last  one  to  get  excited,  and  preferred  to 
lie  back  and  blow  smoke  rings  while  every 
body  else  was  screaming.  But  he  had  fallen 
in  love  with  the  Vincents  right  off,  and  had 
made  tremendous  efforts  to  please  and  keep 
them.  It  was  he  wTho  had  put  it  into  their 
heads  to  buy  the  Howard  place,  and  that  at  a 
price  that  even  two  swell  little  innocents  could 
see  was  a  bargain.  They  were  devoted  to 
papa,  too,  and  blindly  trusted  all  the  negotia 
tions  to  him,  so  he  was  really  to  blame  for  let 
ting  Marsden  jump  in  and  get  the  property, 
while  he  waited  and  dillydallied  and  dickered 
to  save  them  that  thirty  thousand.  Poor  papa ! 
I  was  awfully  sorry  for  him.  He  couldn't 
have  been  more  depressed  if  a  Limited  had 
smashed  up  and  let  in  the  line  for  a  million. 

Well,  so  the  Vincents  left,  and  Mr.  Marsden 
sneaked  in,  and  papa  went  on  like  a  she-bear 
robbed  of  its  cubs.  You  only  had  to  say 
"  Marsden  "  for  him  to  explode,  and  he  spent 
most  of  his  spare  time  thinking  of  ways  to 
run  him  out.  But  the  puzzle  man  was  ter- 
23 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


ribly  unassailable.  He  didn't  put  up  his  name 
at  the  Country  Club;  didn't  try  to  make  any 
friends;  didn't  put  his  head  out  of  his  shell 
for  anybody  to  take  a  crack  at  it.  The  only 
apparent  method  of  hurting  him  was  to  attack 
him  from  the  outside — bust  the  puzzle  busi 
ness,  and  drive  him  into  bankruptcy.  But  he 
hadn't  been  with  us  a  month  before  he 
launched  "  Dobbin,  Dobbin,  Oh,  Where's  Dob 
bin  ?  "  and  successfully  maddened  a  continent 
for  a  second  time.  I  gave  papa  one  of  the  dol 
lar  sizes  as  a  birthday  present,  but  he  didn't 
see  any  joke  in  it,  and  got  blacker  than  a 
thundercloud.  He  was  sorer  than  ever  about 
losing  the  Vincents,  and  never  passed  the 
Howard  place  without  gritting  his  teeth. 

We  all  waited  for  Marsden  to  come  out  and 
startle  us.  We  didn't  know  exactly  what  he 
was  going  to  do — but  we  were  sure,  sooner  or 
later,  that  he  would  do  it.  Then,  as  nothing 
happened,  a  sort  of  mystery  grew  up  about 
him.  He  hid  away  in  a  corner  of  that  vast  old 
house  with  two  German  servants,  an  old  man 
24  -- 


The  Man  that  Maddened  a  Continent 

and  an  old  woman ;  and  as  far  as  any  splurge 
was  concerned,  he  might  have  been  the  hired 
caretaker.  I  mean,  except  for  his  G.  R.  A.  T. 
car,  a  forty-horse  Austrian  giant  that  used  to 
slip  out,  mostly  at  night,  and  sizzle  around  like 
the  wind.  Papa  said  he  was  only  trying  to 
pique  our  curiosity,  and  that  the  surest  way 
of  getting  people  to  know  you,  who  don't  want 
to  know  you,  is  to  make  them  believe  you 
don't  want  to  know  them. 

Well,  it  went  along  like  this  for  ever  so 
long,  till  one  day  he  actually  did  make  an  ac 
quaintance,  and — would  you  believe  it? — that 
acquaintance  was  me.  I  was  hung  up  on  the 
road  when  I  heard  a  big  car  purring  up  the 
hill,  and  when  I  turned  round,  I  saw  it  was 
the  G.  R.  A.  T.  It  swerved  for  a  moment  in 
an  undecided  manner,  passed  me,  slowed 
down,  and  stopped.  I  looked  up  from  the 
bonnet,  and  there  was  Mr.  Marsden  getting 
out.  I  knew  him  in  a  minute  from  his  picture, 
and,  besides,  the  G.  R.  A.  T.  identified  him 
like  a  passport.  He  was  a  startlingly  hand- 
25 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


some  man  of  about  thirty,  with  heaps  of  red 
dish-brown  hair,  and  wild  gray  eyes;  tall  and 
spare,  with  a  musician  look,  and  an  aquiline 
nose.  I  watched  him  out  of  the  corner  of  my 
eye,  and  held  my  breath. 

"  Might  I  not  assist  you  ?  "  he  asked  in  a 
delightfully  pleasant  voice,  raising  his  leather 
cap. 

"  Oh,  thank  you  very  much — it  is  nothing," 
I  replied  with  what  I  considered  the  right  de 
gree  of  warmth  to  offset  his  courtesy,  and  yet 
give  him  no  opening  for  a  talk ;  and  then,  as 
he  still  stood  there  smiling,  I  added,  in  a 
please-go-away  tone,  "  a  broken  porcelain;  I'll 
have  it  right  in  a  minute." 

I  was  unprepared  for  his  taking  the  plug 
out  of  my  hand,  which  he  did  in  the  most  mat 
ter-of-fact  way,  like  a  paid  mechanic,  and 
pulled  out  his  knife  to  widen  the  points.  He 
was  as  exasperatingly  slow  about  it  as  though 
he  had  specially  arrived  from  a  garage  in  a 
trouble  wagon. 

"  Why  do  all  you  people  dislike  me  so 
26 


"'Why  do  all  you  people  dislike  me  so  much?'" 


The  Man  that  Maddened  a  Continent 

much?"  he  asked  abruptly,  raising  his  eyes 
and  meeting  mine.  "  Good  heavens,  what  is 
the  matter  ?  What  have  I  done  ?  What  crime 
have  I  committed?" 

I  couldn't  help  flushing  at  being  asked  such 
a  point-blank  question.  Under  the  circum 
stances  it  struck  me  as  hardly  short  of  an  im 
pertinence. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  you  mean,"  I  said ; 
"  and  even  if  I  did,  I  should  not  care  to  discuss 
it  with  you.  Indeed,  I'd  be  obliged  if  you'd 
let  me  fix  my  car  for  myself." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  returned,  still 
holding  tight  to  the  plug,  and  gazing  down  at 
me  in  the  most  disconcerting  way.  "  It  isn't 
that  I  mind  being  let  alone.  In  fact,  that's 
why  I  came  here.  The  house  has  an  atmos 
phere  ;  and  you  can  hardly  imagine  how  im 
portant  atmosphere  is  to  a  savant.  But,  while 
I  was  prepared  to  be  regarded  as  a  recluse — as 
a  crank,  even — it  didn't  occur  to  me  that  I  was 
qualifying  to  become  the  pariah  of  Studding- 
ham !  " 

27 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


He  looked  so  sad  and  reproachful  that  it 
seemed  only  common  humanity  to  say  that  he 
wasn't. 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  as  bad  as  that,"  I  remarked, 
with  all  the  gumption  I  could  put  into  such  an 
awful  fib. 

"  I  don't  know  why  I  should  particularly 
care,"  he  went  on,  "  but  it  has  kind  of  got  on 
my  nerves,  you  know.  I  feel  myself  boiling 
in  a  caldron  of  resentment,  while  your  friends 
are  cheerfully  skimming  the  grease  off  the  top. 
It — it's  humiliating!  I  wish  I  could  do  what 
a  friend  of  mine  did  in  London  when  a  Lord 
Somebody  cut  him  on  the  street.  Followed 
him,  you  know,  calling  out  and  raising  such 
a  hullabaloo,  that  finally  the  lord,  in  self-de 
fense,  was  compelled  to  turn  round  and  ask 
him  angrily  what  was  the  matter.  '  I  just 
wanted  to  tell  you,'  said  my  friend, 'that  if 
you  don't  want  to  know  me,  you  needn't ! '  If 
it  wouldn't  be  asking  too  much  of  you,  I  wish 
you'd  0«ve  the  same  message  from  me  to 
Studdingham." 

28       -- 


The  Man  that  Maddened  a   Continent 

He  said  this  so  whimsically  that  I  burst  out 
laughing. 

"  What  fools  people  are !  "  he  continued 
confidentially.  "  Here  am  I  complaining  be 
cause  the  curate  hasn't  called,  and  none  of  the 
village  bores  and  busybodies  have  descended 
on  me.  For  years  I've  been  looking  for  a 
place  where  I  could  be  stark  alone,  and  now, 
when  I  have  found  it,  I  can't  help  feeling 
slighted  and  insulted." 

"  You  ought  to  go  off  somewhere  where 
you  are  more  appreciated,"  I  said.  "  Frank 
ly,  here  you  are  not  a  success,  and  your  pro- 
profession  seems  to  jar  on  our  susceptibil 
ities." 

"  Profession !  "  he  cried.  "  Do  you  mean 
my  puzzles  ?  Good  heavens,  I  hope  you  don't 
think  that's  the  only  thing  I  do !  I  had  to 
gain  an  independence  somehow,  and  to  a  man 
of  a  mathematical  turn  that  was  the  easiest 
way.  I  got  the  idea  of  Bo-peep  from  an  al 
gebraical  formula  I  happened  at  the-  time  to 
be  using  in  some  experiments.  But  apart  from 
6  29 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


all  that,  is  it  such  a  crime  to  amuse  the 
public?" 

"  But  you  tortured  them,"  I  said.  "  Your 
advertisement  is  only  too  true ;  and  really  and 
truly,  how  can  you  expect  us  to  be  chummy 
with  a  man  that  has  maddened  a  continent !  " 

He  groaned  at  this,  and  put  out  his  hand  as 
though  to  implore  me  to  stop. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  remarked  at  last,  very  bit- 
ingly,  "  I  suppose  that  if  Sir  Isaac  Newton 
had  sold  peanuts,  or  Darwin  had  eked  out  his 
income  by  peddling  the  '  Life  of  General 
Grant,'  you'd  be  quite  blind  to  the  trifling  ad 
ditions  they  made  to  the  store  of  human 
knowledge." 

"  Oh,  /  wouldn't,"  I  said.  "  But  I  wouldn't 
like  to  answer  for  Studdingham.  Besides — 
I  don't  want  to  be  rude,  you  know — but  we 
see  only  the  peanut  side  of  your  career,  and, 
up  to  now,  nobody  had  even  guessed  that  there 
was  another." 

I  waited  for  him  to  tell  me  what  it  was,  but 
he  didn't.  I  couldn't  help  feeling  curious 
30  ~- 


The  Man  that  Maddened  a  Continent 

about  it,  because  he  was  so  handsome,  and  had 
such  nice  eyes,  and  the  way  he  held  back 
seemed  to  make  it  more  mysterious  and  ex 
citing. 

"  I  am  a  digger,"  he  said  at  last — "  a  poor, 
miserable,  lonely  digger.  I  dig  and  dig,  and 
the  deeper  I  get  the  less  I  appear  to  accom 
plish.  To  put  it  into  common  English,  I  am 
engaged  in  electrical  research,  not  of  the  prof 
itable,  ingenious,  touch-the-button  kind,  but 
in  the  study  of  some  great  basic,  perhaps  in 
soluble,  phenomena  that  we  have  been  con 
tent  to  name  and  then  ignore — a  scientific  pro 
cedure  more  universal  than  you'd  think." 

He  paused,  and  it  seemed  only  polite  on  my 
part  to  ask  him  how  he  was  getting  on. 

"  Wait  twenty  years,  and  then,  perhaps,  I'll 
answer  you,"  he  returned.  "  Have  you  ever 
been  a  victim  of  those  schoolboy  jokes,  when 
you  open  your  parcel  and  then  find  another 
parcel  inside  of  that,  and  another  inside  of 
that,  and  so  on  and  so  on?  Well,  that's  what 
science  is,  only,  in  our  case,  there  are  a  million 

31 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


more  wrappers,  and  it  often  takes  months  to 
remove  a  single  one !  " 

"  And  then  you  find  it's  a  carrot  after  all, 
or  a  slate  pencil,"  I  said.  "Oh,  yes,  I  know 
that  joke ;  though,  even  as  a  little  girl,  I  never 
thought  it  a  particularly  good  one !  " 

He  smilingly  agreed  with  me.  "  But  Na- 
trre  has  her  practical  jokes,  too,  you  know, 
and  occasionally  revenges  herself  for  all  we've 
robbed  her  of." 

I  suppose  he  caught  me  glancing  at  the 
spark  plug,  for  he  suddenly  pulled  himself  up, 
and  his  face  changed. 

"  I  fear  I  have  taken  a  great  liberty  in  tell 
ing  you  all  this,"  he  went  on,  in  an  earnest, 
troubled  tone.  "  You  must  make  allowances 
for  a  man  who  sees  no  one — a  scientific  Cru 
soe  on  a  desert  island,  who,  in  the  absorp 
tion  of  one  great  dominating  idea,  has  forgot 
ten  all  the  petty  rules,  and,  worse  still,  even 
runs  the  risk  of  proving  himself  a  bore.  This 
meeting,  this  little  talk  here  in  the  woods,  that 
means  nothing  to  you,  that  will  be  forgotten 
32  "- 


The  Man  that  Maddened  a   Continent 

in  an  hour,  will  remain  with  me  for  months  to 
come,  the  most  radiant  of  memories." 

It  was  rather  hard  to  know  what  to  reply  to 
this.  He  was  so  naive  in  his  admiration,  so 
innocent  of  any  presumption  or  offense,  that 
it  would  have  been  brutal  to  snub  him.  Yet 
I  couldn't  very  well  stand  there  and  let  him 
run  along  on  this  line.  Heaven  only  knows 
where  he  would  have  got  to,  because —  Oh, 
well,  because —  A  girl  doesn't  need  a  sixth 
sense  to  tell  her  when  a  man —  It  seemed  a 
happy  thought  to  turn  his  electrical  abilities 
to  account  by  asking  him  to  look  at  my  buzzer, 
and  thus  sidetrack  any  more  embarrassing 
confidences.  It  was  lucky  I  did  so,  for  he 
found  that  one  of  the  vibrators  was  sticking 
slightly,  and  had  quite  a  fight  to  get  it  into 
proper  shape.  Then,  when  he  had  screwed 
down  the  plug,  wired  up,  and  put  back  the 
hood  covers,  he  was  simply  forced  to  crank 
up  and  let  me  go. 

"  I  suppose  it  is  good-by  forever  ?  "  he  said, 
looking  at  me  in  the  most  appealing  manner, 

33 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


and  holding  to  the  car  as  though  it  might  sud 
denly  jump  up  and  fly  away. 

"  I  am  afraid  it  is,  Mr.  Marsden,"  I  said, 
glad  to  make  the  matter  quite  plain.  "  And 
much  obliged  for  your  kindness,"  and  with 
that  I  speeded  up,  and  left  him  disconsolately 
in  the  road.  I  peeped  back  through  my  little 
window,  and  felt  quite  sorry  for  him. 

It  was  hard  to  be  a  pariah,  and  he  was 
really  a  charming  fellow  and  wonderfully 
handsome  and  nice.  If  he  hadn't  been  the 
puzzle  king,  hadn't  maddened  a  continent,  I 
should  have  indulged  in  a  little  sentiment 
about  him,  and  wiped  away  a  tear.  But  a 
sense  of  the  ridiculous  forbade,  and  I  had  to 
smile  at  myself.  Perhaps  it  helped  as  a  pro 
tection.  Isn't  it  strange  when  a  person's  eyes 
can  haunt  you,  and  you  can  hear  the  tones  of 
his  voice?  I  suppose  it  was  just  because  he 
was  so  out  of  the  ordinary,  and  unlike  any 
body  I  had  ever  met  before ;  and  he  was  fair, 
and  I  was  dark — and,  oh —  Really  how  can 
anybody  explain  those  things,  anyway? 
34 


Ill 

CHEWING    UP   THE  LOW-GEAR 


Ill 


CHEWING    UP   THE    LOW-GEAR 

SUPPOSE  chewing  up  that  low- 
gear  was  the  luckiest  thing  that 
ever  happened.  I  didn't  think  so 
at  the  time,  naturally,  as  I  was 
eighteen  miles  from  home,  and  the  Bolinas 
road  was  so  wild  and  unfrequented  that  you 
almost  never  meet  a  team.  As  luck  would 
have  it,  the  stage  had  passed  just  ten  min 
utes  before  it  dawned  on  me  that  I  was  in 
trouble.  They  talk  about  being  alone  in  a 
great  city,  but  getting  stranded  in  the  woods 
with  a  sick  car  is  forty  times  worse.  Of 
?  37 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


course,  I  had  OlafF  along,  and  I  can't  tell  you 
what  a  comfort  and  consolation  he  was  to  me. 
He  is  a  Great  Dane,  and  everybody  is  afraid 
of  him  because  he  is  so  big  and  fierce,  and  he 
crowds  up  a  car  like  a  trunk,  and  has  a  large, 
meaty  tail  there  never  seems  any  room  for. 
But,  in  a  tight  place,  I'd  rather  have  Olaff 
than  any  person  I  know,  for  he  takes  being  a 
dog  seriously,  and  would  positively  have  liked 
to  meet  a  mountain  lion,  just  to  show  what  he 
could  do  to  it. 

So  Olaff  sat  and  wagged  his  tail  in  the  road, 
while  I  stripped  off  the  transmission  cover  and 
felt  inside.  The  metal  band  around  the  low- 
gear  drum  had  fractured,  and  it  didn't  take 
two  looks  to  see  that  this  part  of  the  outfit  had 
gone  out  of  business.  It  was  made  of  a  spe 
cial  imported  unfracturable  phospher-some- 
thing  bronze,  slotted  for  lubrication,  and  I 
guess  the  manufacturers  must  have  overdone 
the  slots.  Anyway,  it  was  cracked.  Even 
Olaff  could  see  that  as  he  put  up  his  paws 
and  gazed  down  at  it  with  his  head  against 
38  ": 


Chewing  up  the  Low-Gear 

mine,  with  a  humorous  expression,  as  though 
the  joke  were  on  us. 

The  reverse  band  was  all  right,  and  tight 
ened  nicely,  and  my  first  panic  gave  way  as  I 
saw  I  was  sure  to  get  home.  The  worst  of 
that  Bolinas  road  was  its  frightful  hilliness, 
and  there  was  bound  to  be  a  lot  of  working 
one's  passage.  So  I  screwed  down  the  cover 
again,  put  on  my  switch,  cranked  up,  and, 
getting  Olaff  on  board,  proceeded  to  back 
Dandy  Dick  in  the  direction  of  Studdingham. 
It  was  slow  work  and  needed  care,  and  there 
was  the  bothering  apprehension  of  overheat 
ing.  But  I  got  up  one  hill  all  right,  and 
smartly  whisking  her  around  on  the  decline  of 
the  next,  I  managed  to  throw  in  my  high 
speed  clutch  and  scoot.  It  was  like  getting  a 
pair  of  wings,  and  if  the  road  in  front  hadn't 
been  all  grades,  I  should  have  sizzled  home 
in  no  time. 

The  next  hill  wasn't  such  a  terror,  and  I 
managed  to  nurse  Dandy  to  the  top  by  ignor 
ing  her  little  pounds  for  mercy,  and  doing 
39 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


wonders  with  the  spark.  But  hill  number  two 
killed  us  before  we  had  much  more  than 
started,  and  so  I  locked  my  brake  and  got  out 
to  cool.  There  was  no  sense  in  burning  up 
the  transmission,  and  this  was  plainly  a  case 
of  making  haste  slowly.  There  was  such  a 
smell  of  fried  engine,  and  such  an  irritable 
bubbling  in  the  radiator,  that  to  force  matters 
would  be  to  stick  the  pistons.  Autoists  are 
often  accused  of  having  no  time  to  admire  the 
scenery  they  pass  through,  but  I  think,  what 
with  our  breakdowns  and  our  enforced  stop 
pages  for  adjustments,  it  would  be  found  that 
we've  absorbed  more  scenery  than  most  of  the 
horse  people.  The  landscape  of  a  place  where 
you  have  once  been  stuck  lives  with  you  for 
years  afterwards,  and  is  absolutely  inefface 
able.  I  can  see  that  road  now,  with  Olaff  roll 
ing  out  his  tongue,  and  the  stream  tinkling  at 
the  bottom  of  the  canyon,  and  every  one  of 
the  hundred  thousand  million  trees. 

Well,  after  about  twenty  minutes  of  scenery, 
we  started  to  back  up  some  more,  and  backed 
40 


Chewing  up  the  Low-Gear 

and  backed  and  backed  till  I  thought  my  head 
would  twist  off.  I  was  still  hard  at  it  when, 
high  above  me,  I  heard  the  boo  of  a  horn,  and 
the  ponderous  slish  of  a  big  car  rounding  the 
curve.  I  squeaked  Dandy's  tooter  to  save  our 
lives,  and  straightened  up  and  tried  to  look 
dignified,  and  as  though  I  preferred  to  climb 
hills  on  the  reverse,  and  wouldn't  have  used 
a  first  speed  if  I  had  had  it.  In  another  instant 
I  saw  the  immense  square  bonnet  of  the  G.  R. 
A.  T.  darting  into  sight,  with  Mr.  Marsden  at 
the  wheel,  and  his  face  so  surprised  and  grat 
ified  at  the  unexpected  sight  of  me  that  he 
almost  forgot  to  ram  home  his  brakes. 

I  don't  know  how  it  happened,  but  I  found 
myself  shaking  his  hand  as  though  he  was  my 
long-lost  brother.  After  all,  Olaff  mightn't 
have  been  equal  to  a  mountain  lion,  and  if 
ever  there  was  a  friend  in  need  it  was  Mr. 
Marsden.  Have  you  ever  studied  anything 
very  hard,  and  then,  after  a  long  rest,  discov 
ered  that  you  had  learned  it?  That's  true  of 
friendships  also,  and  I  could  feel  we  had  made 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


a  big  jump  forward  since  we  had  last  met. 
Besides,  I  was  in  the  humor  to  like  anybody 
that  happened  along  just  then,  and  so  Mr. 
Marsden  was  all  to  the  good.  I  needn't  say 
he  was  most  remarkably  nice  and  kind  and 
obliging,  and  took  right  hold  as  though  his 
only  business  in  life  was  to  tow  his  friends  out 
of  their  difficulties.  He  was  so  delighted,  poor 
fellow,  and  seemed  to  find  such  a 'tremendous 
significance  in  all  the  train  of  events  that  it  led 
him  to  taking  the  Bolinas  trail.  I  was  so 
grateful  and  relieved  that  I  was  quite  willing 
he  should  see  the  finger  of  fate  in  our  meet 
ing,  and  didn't  mind  his  being  so  enthusiastic 
about  it. 

"  I  never  dreamed  I  was  to  have  the  privi 
lege  of  speaking  to  you  again,"  he  said.  "  In 
fact,  I  was  just  on  the  point  of  shutting  up  the 
house  and  going  away  forever." 

I  suppose  it  was  silly  to  ask  why,  but  I 
asked  it. 

"  I  haven't  the  presumption  to  tell  you,"  he 
returned,  his  handsome,  sensitive  face  shad- 
42 


C /tewing  up  the  Low-Gear 

owing.  "  You  might  misjudge  me — yes,  you'd 
be  sure  to  misjudge  me.  But  what  was  the 
good  of  my  staying  on  here,  and  being  utterly 
wretched  ?  " 

I  felt  awfully  sorry  for  him,  because  his 
voice  was  so  sincere  and  trembling,  and  I 
could  see  he  meant  me. 

"  I  suppose  it  is  hard  to  be  an  outcast,"  I 
said  sympathetically.  "  Once,  at  boarding 
school,  I  was  sent  to  Coventry  for  a  week  be 
cause  they  thought  I  had  caricatured  Miss 
Drayton  on  the  blackboard,  while  it  was 
really  that  little  sneak,  Jessie  Tillman,  who 
was  afraid  to  own  up ;  and  it  nearly  killed  me." 

"  Oh,  it's  not  that !  "  he  cried,  waving  away 
the  suggestion  with  his  hand.  '  These  people 
are  no  more  to  me  than  so  many  ants.  What 
hurts  me  is  that  I'm  prevented  from  knowing 
you." 

"  You  seem  to  have  broken  through  the  net, 
though,"  I  remarked,  smiling. 

"  No,  I  haven't,"  he  said  savagely.  "  This 
is  just  a  lucky  accident — an  accident  that  may 
43 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


never  occur  again.  Don't  you  understand  ?  I 
should  like  to  come  and  see  you,  like  other 
people — bring  you  flowers,  and  boxes  of 
candy,  and  try  to  persuade  you  to  like  me. 
When  a  man's  in  earnest  and  really  cares,  it's 
a  shame  when  he  isn't  even  allowed  a  chance." 

"  Let's  be  sensible,  Mr.  Marsden,"  I  said. 
"  You  know  very  well  I  cannot  ask  you  to 
come  and  see  me ;  and  if  you  are  going  to  talk 
like  that,  I'm  not  sure  I  would  if  I  could. 
We're  very  conventional  people  here,  and 
these  short  cuts  of  yours  across  the  social 
grass  are  alarming." 

"  I  love  you,"  he  said,  with  an  awfully  gen 
uine  flash  of  his  eyes.  "  That's  what  I  meant 
all  the  time — that's  the  crudest  part  of  it ;  and 
these  people  here  have  ostracized  me  so  suc 
cessfully  that  they've  made  it  an  impertinence 
for  me  to  say  it !  " 


44 


IV 


OLAFF   SPEAKS   OUT 


IV 


OLAFF   SPEAKS   OUT 

N  my  first  moment  of  stupefaction 
I  confess  I  did  not  know  what 
to  do.  A  mountain  lion  seemed 
almost  preferable,  and  though  I 
ought  to  have  felt  awfully  angry  and  in 
sulted,  I  somehow  couldn't  do  it.  I  sup 
pose  it  was  because  he  really  meant  it,  and 
wasn't  pretending.  So  I  simply  told  him  the 
truth — that  he  was  making  me  embarrassed 
and  uncomfortable,  and  that  if  his  regard 
A7 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


amounted  to  anything,  he  would  stop  right 
there  talking  about  -it. 

"  Don't  make  it  impossible  for  me  to  accept 
a  favor  from  you,"  I  went  on.  "  Things  like 
that  sandbag  a  conversation  and  make  one 
self-conscious,  and  put  one  on  one's  guard. 
You  will  force  me  to  adopt  a  freezing  manner, 
and  protect  myself  as  best  I  can.  Don't  you 
think  that  would  be  rather  humiliating  for 
both  of  us  ?  " 

Then,  of  course,  being  an  awfully  nice  man, 
he  groveled,  and  acted  as  though  he  was  aw 
fully  grateful  at  not  being  killed  dead.  He 
begged  my  pardon  over  and  over  again,  and 
got  into  the  transmission  to  see  if  it  actually 
was  a  fracture. 

"  I'll  only  ask  you  one  thing  before  I  drop 
the  subject,"  he  said  very  gravely,  "  and  that 
is,  to  do  me  the  honor  to  believe  me." 

It  made  me  tingle  all  over  to  admit  I  did, 

but  what   was  the  use  of  fibbing  about   it? 

Besides,  to   have  answered   otherwise  would 

have  provoked  a  discussion.    I  was  rather  flus- 

48       -- 


Olaff  Speaks  Out 


tered,  anyway,  and  kind  of  glad,  too,  and 
thought  what  beautiful  thick  wavy  hair  he  had 
as  he  bent  over  the  case.  It  hadn't  been  love 
at  first  sight — on  my  part,  I  mean — but  it  had 
got  very  close  to  the  worrying  line,  and  he  cer 
tainly  was  tormentingly  good  looking,  and  un 
usually  attractive  and  charming.  It  made  me 
sigh  that  he  had  maddened  a  continent.  Girls 
are  awfully  susceptible  to  the  ridiculous,  and 
a  puzzle  king — oh,  no! 

"  You'd  better  let  me  take  you  home,"  he 
said,  "  and  then  I  can  come  back  with  a  man 
and  tow  Dandy  to  the  shop." 

But  I  wouldn't  hear  of  it.  In  the  first  place, 
I  didn't  want  to  be  under  such  an  obligation; 
and,  in  the  second,  what  was  the  good  of 
saying  die  when  you  have  a  healthy  re 
verse  ? 

"  But  it  will  take  you  hours  and  hours," 
he  said. 

"  You  oughtn't  mind  that,"  I  told  him — 
"  not  after  all  you  said,  and  all  that  I  didn't 
let  you  say." 

49 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


You  ought  to  have  seen  how  pleased  he 
looked!  Perhaps  it  was  rather  forward  of 
me,  but  I  couldn't  help  it.  He  was  too  nice 
not  to  tease  a  little,  and  after  his  promise 
about  the  tabooed  subject,  I  wasn't  afraid  to 
skate  all  around  it.  Not  that  the  stern  facts 
of  existence  were  neglected,  however.  The 
road  was  so  narrow  that  he  had  to  back  too, 
having  a  U4-wheel  base,  and  we  both  backed 
and  backed  and  backed,  till  it  would  have 
made  a  cat  laugh.  Then  we'd  cool  off,  and 
talk,  and  back  some  more.  He  had  some 
crackers  in  his  kit,  and  a  bottle  of  fizz  water, 
and  we  had  a  sort  of  lunch,  and  grew  chum- 

\ 

mier  and  chummier;  even  Olaff  licking  the 
crumbs  off  his  hand  and  growing  quite 
friendly — which  I  thought  was  a  good  sign, 
as  Olaff  is  a  regular  Bernard  Shaw  on  char 
acter,  -and  sees  right  through  people.  I  told 
Mr.  Marsden  he  ought  to  be  tremendously 
complimented ;  and  he  said  he  was,  and 
anybody  could  see  he  loved  dogs,  and  really 
appreciated  Great  Danes.  Nothing  would 
50  -- 


Olaff  Speaks  Out 


discourage  me  more  about  a  man  than  if  he 
didn't,  and  there's  a  heap  in  that  old  saying 
about  "  Love  me,  love  my  dog."  Only  some 
times  the  dog  won't  reciprocate,  which  in  this 
case,  fortunately,  didn't  happen,  and  every 
thing  was  delightful. 

It  was  about  noon  when  we  first  began  to 
back,  and  I  know  that  nobody  will  believe 
me  when  I  say  it  took  us  six  hours  to  reach 
the  county  road.  Mr.  Marsden  was  very  cau 
tious  about  overheating,  and  was  a  great  stick 
ler  for  being  on  the  safe  side.  Anyway,  we'd 
back  and  stop,  back  and  stop,  back  and  stop, 
till  we  felt  we'd  been  years  together  and  were 
declining  into  middle  age.  We  must  have 
stopped  fifty  times,  and  as  we  had  a  separate 
talk  each  time,  you  can  see  for  yourself  that 
we  were  bound  to  get  more  and  more  confiden 
tial,  and  steadily  advance  the  spark  of  friend 
ship. 

His  whole  past  life  gradually  came  out,  and 
it  was  most  strange  and  exciting  and  pathetic. 
His  father  had  been  the  inventor  of  an  ex- 
Si 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


traordinary  automatic  machine  cannon,  and 
wherever  there  was  trouble  there  was  Mr. 
Marsden's  father  crazy  to  show  it  off.  My 
Mr.  Marsden,  from  the  time  he  was  nine  to 
fifteen,  went  along,  too,  helping  to  chase  up 
war  ministers  and  wars  and  revolutions.  The 
pair  had  the  most  awful  ups  and  downs,  riding 
one  day  in  gold  carriages  with  kings  and  dic 
tators,  and  the  next  half  starving  and  ignored. 
His  father  drew  a  considerable  income  from 
a  ship-telegraph  patent,  and  this  allowed  him 
to  keep  his  liberty  and  his  gun,  and  refuse 
what  offers  he  got  for  it.  And  the  worst  of  it 
was  that  it  wasn't  a  good  gun,  and  the  only 
people  who  could  make  it  work  properly  were 
Mr.  Marsden  and  his  father.  But  if  nobody 
was  very  eager  to  buy  it,  they  were  always 
willing  enough  to  give  Mr.  Marsden  a  front 
seat  on  the  chance  of  his  making  good,  and 
thus  it  was  they  were  always  to  the  fore,  and 
shooting  off  their  wonderful  gun. 

They  averaged  a  war  a  year — not  big  ones, 
of  course,  because  they  don't  occur  so  often, 
-        52 


Olaff  Speaks  Out 


but  little  ones  in  unheard-of  places — Herze 
govina,  Macedonia,  Georgia,  Morocco.  No 
revolution  was  complete  without  Mr.  Mars- 
den  and  his  gun,  and  he  always  saved  the  thing 
from  being  cold-blooded  by  siding  ferociously 
with  the  party  he  was  with.  The  detested 
enemy  was  always  in  front  of  Mr.  Marsden's 
wonderful  gun,  and  the  people  behind  it  were 
invariably  the  downtrodden  patriots  who  were 
throwing  off  the  despot's  yoke.  My  Mr. 
Marsden  told  it  all  with  a  delicious  humor, 
and  an  underlying  tenderness  for  his  crack- 
brained  father  that  was  most  sweet  and 
charming.  Indeed,  he  had  a  real  gift  of  de 
scription,  and  made  my  heart  beat  with  the 
stories  of  battles  and  routs,  and  narrow 
squeaks,  and  corpses  rotting  in  the  sun — lead 
ing  up  to  the  time  when  his  father  died  of 
fever,  and  he  himself  managed  to  get  back  to 
America  with  nothing  more  than  the  clothes 
he  stood  in.  The  ship-telegraph  had  been  su 
perseded  by  a  better  invention,  and  he  found 
himself  without  a  penny  in  the  world,  and  no 
9  53 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


more  education  than  what  he  had  picked  up 
on  the  march. 

"  But  I  was  out  of  the  gun  business  for 
good,"  he  said,  "  and  thank  God  for  it." 

One  instinctively  sides  with  the  hero  in  any 
story — not  that  Mr.  Marsden  was  that  ex 
actly — but  in  his  struggles  and  hardships  and 
disappointments  and  the  gritty  fight  he  made 
to  get  through  college  and  make  something  of 
himself  and  his  abilities.  Think  of  the  Bo- 
peep  puzzle,  for  instance.  He  made  it  for  his 
landlady's  little  girl,  who  was  sick  in  bed,  and 
he  too  poor  to  buy  her  a  Christmas  present ! 
His  big  things  were  all  failures,  while  this  un- 
considered  trifle,  whittled  out  with  his  jack- 
knife  late  one  night,  and  inspired  simply  by 
kindness,  brought  him  an  unexpected  and 
Heaven-sent  independence.  He  sold  it  to  a 
syndicate  for  thirty-five  dollars,  and  only  re 
tained  half  profits  because  they  wouldn't  make 
it  one  hundred  dollars  outright. 

"  Now  they  are  Marsden  Incorporated,"  he 
said,  "  and  I  am  under  a  ten  years'  iron-clad 
54 


Olaff  Speaks  Out 


contract.  Strange  how  things  fall  out,  isn't 
it?" 

Altogether  we  were  awfully  good  friends  by 
the  time  we  reached  the  county  road,  where 
Mr.  Marsden  promised  to  push  Dandy  Dick 
till  I  could  get  in  the  high-speed  clutch  for 
what  we  hoped  was  the  last  time.  It  was  good 
running  from  there  home,  you  know,  and  he 
was  to  tail  along  behind,  besides,  to  keep  an 
eye  on  me.  But,  of  course,  it  meant  saying 
good-by  right  there,  because  if  Dandy  once  got 
moving  there  was  no  stopping  her  till  I  got 
into  papa's  barn.  Mr.  Marsden  wasn't  over- 
willing  to  begin,  and  got  very  miserable  and 
downhearted,  especially  when  I  told  him  that 
it  wouldn't  do  for  us  ever  to  meet  again. 

"  They  might  say  I  was  meeting  you  clan 
destinely,"  I  said,  "  and  then  I'd  just  lie  down 
and  die  of  mortification.  You  don't  know 
what  a  nest  of  gossips  we  live  in,  nor  how  they 
tear  girls  limb  from  limb.  And  that's  with 
out  counting  papa,  for  Heaven  only  knows 
what  he'd  do  to  me." 

55 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


Then  he  groaned — positively  groaned — and 
murmured  something  about  a  "  way."  "  Oh, 
there  must  be  a  way !  " 

'''  This  is  one  of  the  places  where  there  isn't 
any  way,"  I  remarked.  "  Of  course,  if  you 
could  save  papa's  life,  or  find  him  tied  to  the 
track  and  then  cut  him  free,  it  might  break 
the  ice  a  bit.  But  it  would  be  just  like  papa 
to  be  grumpy  about  it,  and  keep  you  at  arm's 
length  even  then." 

"  Tell  me  frankly,"  he  cried,  "  this  isn't  any 
subterfuge  on  your  part?  It  isn't  that  I'm 
unpresentable,  is  it?  Would  you  be  ashamed 
to  know  me — be  friends,  I  mean — in  the  or 
dinary  way?  I've  been  so  long  a  pariah  that 
I'm  beginning  to  lose  my  nerve.  Yet  you 
haven't  acted  as  though  there  was  any  real 
gulf  between  us." 

"  Only  papa,"  I  said.  "  But  that's  a  mile 
wide  and  ten  deep.  Oh,  no,  Mr.  Marsden, 
I  like  you  ever  so  much,  and  I  think  you  are 
nicer  and  lots  more  interesting  than  all  the 
men  here  put  together."  (I  wanted  to  pile  it 
56 


Olaff  Speaks  Out 


on,  because  it  was  true,  you  know,  and  I  felt 
most  awfully  sorry  for  him,  and  it  seemed  so 
unjust  and  wrong  that  I  couldn't  meet  him 
properly — only  through  cracked  porcelains 
and  chewed-up  low-gears.) 

"  Then  it  just  comes  down  to  this :  I  have 
to  meet  your  father,  and  simply  force  him  to 
like  me." 

It  seemed  tame  to  remind  him  that  this  was 
easier  said  than  done.  Making  papa  like  you 
wasn't  an  affair  of  touching  a  button.  And, 
if  anything,  he  was  more  ferocious  than  ever 
about  losing  the  Vincents,  and  his  dislike  of 
Mr.  Marsden  had  become  a  monomania. 
That's  the  trouble  about  a  man  who's  been 
good-natured  all  his  life,  and  never  had  an 
enemy  except  the  legislature ;  when  at  last  he 
finds  one  he  won't  let  it  go.  I  believe  papa 
actually  enjoyed  being  a  Marsden-phoboist. 

'''  There  is  something  in  what  you  said  just 
now,"  he  went  on  meditatively.  "  I  must  get 
him  into  a  tight  place  and  save  him." 

"  It  can't  be  done,"  I  said.  "  Papa's  been 
57 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


saved  only  once  in  his  life,  and  then  it  was  the 
First  National  Bank,  and  it  took  three  million 
dollars." 

"  A  little  plan  has  been  running  through 
my  head  for  the  last  hour,"  he  persisted. 
"  Possibly  you  noticed  my  interest  in  the 
Lampmans'  fancy-dress  ball,  and  how  I  drew 
you  out  about  it?  I  think  I  could  use  it  to 
advantage  if  I  could  count  on  you  to  help  me." 

My  face  must  have  expressed  my  misgiv 
ing.  I  didn't  want  to  promise  in  the  dark.  A 
girl  has  always  to  be  on  her  guard,  and  though 
he  was  very  fascinating  and  all  that,  I  still 
had  a  little  sense.  I  wouldn't  have  any  harm 
come  to  my  father  for  a  hundred  thousand 
Marsdens.  He  was  quick  to  see  what  was 
passing  in  my  head,  and  gazed  at  me  more  and 
more  despairingly. 

"  I  suppose  it  is  crazy  for  me  to  try,"  he 
said,  "  but  I  wouldn't  be  halfway  a  man  if  I 
didn't.  You  haven't  gone  back  from  what  you 
told  me?" 

"What  did  I  tell  you?" 
58 


Olaff  Speaks  Out 


"  That  you  liked  me,  I  mean.  That  under 
happier  circumstances,  you  would  give  me  the 
same  chance  that  your  other  men  friends  have 
to— to— 

I  rather  hoped  he'd  go  on,  but  he  didn't. 
The  way  he  broke  off,  and  clenched  his  hands, 
was  terribly  eloquent,  and  anybody  could  see 
it  was.  the  real  thing.  It  was  almost  in  self- 
defense  that  I  looked  at  my  watch,  gave  a  lit 
tle  scream,  and  begged  him  to  push  Dandy  and 
not  delay  me  another  minute. 

"  All  I  want  to  ask  you  is  this,"  he  broke 
out.  "  Be  sure  you  go  to  the  ball,  and  make 
your  father  go,  too — in  the  Dauntless,  of 
course — and  leave  the  Lampmans'  exactly  at 
two  o'clock.  Will  you  do  this  for  me?  May 
I  count  on  it  absolutely?  The  happiness  of 
my  whole  life  depends  on  it." 

He  caught  my  hand  and  held  it  so  appeal- 
ingly,  so  devotedly,  that  it  wasn't  in  flesh  and 
blood  to  say  No ;  especially  as  I  was  going 
to  the  Lampmans'  anyway — papa,  Dauntless, 
and  all — and  the  only  real  favor  was  the  two- 
59 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


o'clock  part  of  it.  So  I  made  a  great  deal  of 
saying  Yes,  I  would,  and  then  he  heaved  away 
at  Dandy,  and  with  a  lot  of  shoving  got  me 
started.  I  gave  him  a  double  toot  to  cheer 
him  up,  while  the  G.  R.  A.  T.  pounded  along 
behind,  ready  to  help  out  if  need  be,  and  Olaff 
smiled  at  me  quizzically  with  his  blood-shot 
eyes. 

"  Homeward  bound,  old  dog,"  I  said*  and 
then  I  whispered,  "  Olaff,  do  you  believe  in 
love  at  first  sight?"  And  what  do  you  sup 
pose  that  wonderful  old  dog  did  ? 

Nodded — positively  nodded — and  uttered  a 
loud,  enthusiastic  bark. 

It's  such  a  comfort  to  have  a  dog  you  can 
always  agree  with ! — who  always  knows  the 
right  thing  to  bark,  and  barks  it.  Papa  says 
he  has  enough  sense  to  run  a  Democratic  State 
Committee.  Papa  is  a  Republican. 


60 


V 


10 


V 


THE    HOBGOBLINEST    PLACE   ON    THE    MAP 


HE  Lampmans  lived  in  a  castle 
about  eighteen  miles  from  Stud- 
dingham.  They  had  found  it  in 
Lombardy — the  castle,  I  mean — 
and  reproduced  it  from  kodak  pictures  they 
had  taken  over  there.  It  was  named  Ydle 
Wyld,  and  was  so  big  that,  though  they  had 
lived  in  it  comfortably  for  three  years,  it  was 
only  now  actually  getting  finished,  and  the 
masquerade  ball  was  to  be  the  long-promised 
housewarming.  Ydle  Wyld  was  perched 
high  up  on  a  spur  of  Mt.  Pacheco,  and  you 
63 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


had  to  follow  twelve  miles  of  private  road  to 
reach  it.  The  Lampmans  were  very  quiet 
people  in  spite  of  their  castle,  and  would  have 
stayed  on  very  comfortably  in  the  St.  Fran 
cis  Hotel  had  it  not  been  for  Sammy  Lamp- 
man,  their  son.  Sammy  was  a  sickly  boy  of 
seventeen,  very  pale  and  imaginative,  who 
was  forced  by  the  doctors  to  lead  a  very  se 
cluded  life.  So,  when  he  demanded  a  castle, 
a  castle  there  had  to  be,  and  the  good  old  sen 
ator  had  to  put  in  a  big  part  of  his  day  trav 
eling  from  Ydle  Wyld  to  State  Street,  and 
from  State  Street  to  Ydle  Wyld.  Their  visit 
to  Europe  had  been  to  see  specialists,  who 
were  very  doubtful  whether  poor  Sammy 
would  ever  round  out  twenty-one. 

The  papers  were  always  making  fun  of 
Ydle  Wyld,  especially  those  on  the  other  po 
litical  side;  and  it  was  called  a  menace  to  re 
publican  ideals,  and  was  regarded  as  an  inso 
lent  attempt  to  revive  the  feudal  system.  But 
the  senator  bore  it  uncomplainingly  for  his 
son's  sake,  and  imported  stacks  of  tapestry 
64 


The  Hobgoblinest  Place  on  the  Map 

and  armor  and  mediaeval  junk  to  give  it  the 
appropriate  look.  He  told  papa  once,  that  if 
Sammy  died,  he  intended  making  it  over  to 
the  Baptists  for  a  college ;  which  shows  how 
much  menace  there  was,  and  how  sad  the 
motive  that  had  inspired  its  building. 

Well,  the  housewarming  was  to  be  a  gigan 
tic  affair — eight  hundred  invitations — and  a 
whole  month  to  get  ready  in.  And  when  I 
say  that  even  papa  was  excited,  you  can  imag 
ine  what  the  rest  of  Studdingham  felt  like. 
I  guess  poor  Mr.  Marsden  was  the  only  per 
son  in  the  place  who  wasn't  having  a  fit  about 
his  costume — that  isn't  a  pun — but  because 
he  wasn't  asked.  It  may  be  that  he  was 
pretty  busy,  too,  with  his  wonderful  "  plan," 
and  needed  less  sympathy  than  I  was  giving 
him.  He  was  a  lot  in. my  thoughts,  anyhow, 
and  sometimes  I  almost  cried,  and  wondered 
if  I'd  ever  see  him  again.  It  all  seemed  so 
hopeless  and  impossible,  and  I  had  got  it  into 
my  head  that  his  "  plan  "  wasn't  any  good. 
You  see,  I  sounded  papa,  and  found  him  just 
65 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


as  red-hot  as  ever — and,  if  anything,  red-hot 
ter — raging  against  Mr.  Marsden,  and  bring 
ing  up  the  Vincents,  as  though  it  had  happened 
yesterday.  When  papa  once  gets  a  grouch  on, 
Time's  healing  hand  doesn't  count  for  any 
thing;  and  mamma  was  hardly  any  better. 
In  a  small  place,  once  a  person's  an  outcast, 
they  make  a  kind  of  rubbish  heap  of  him,  and 
pile  on  all  the  crimes  of  the  calendar,  from 
morphine  to  manslaughter — all  the  tin  cans 
and  broken  bottles  of  slander  and  innuendo — 
till  it  grows  to  be  a  mountain ! 

I  tried  to  put  in  a  good  word  or  two,  but 
it  wasn't  of  the  faintest  use,  since  mamma  was 
now  certain  he  was  a  vivisectionist,  and  papa 
said  those  morose,  sullen  fellows,  who  make 
hermits  of  themselves,  invariably  ended  in 
homicidal  mania.  I  hinted  at  electrical  re 
search,  but  papa  said,  "Oh,  bosh !  "  and  that 
it  was  more  likely  to  be  the  whisky  bottle. 
I  didn't  argue  any  further,  because  I  was  too 
afraid  and  too  hurt — and  what  was  the  good? 
But  I  took  a  kind  of  morbid  pleasure  in  think- 
66 


The  Hobgoblinest  Place  on  the  Map 

ing  I  had  fought  his  battles  and  got  licked, 
and  hoped  some  day  that  I'd  be  able  to  tell 
him  so.  It  is  strange  how  liking  a  man  grows 
and  grows,  till  finally  you  can't  think  of  any 
thing  else.  It  must  have  been  because  he  was 
thinking  of  me,  and  breaking  his  poor,  lonely 
heart.  It's  all  very  well  to  make  fun  of  affin 
ity,  but  I  never  felt  like  that  about  Charlie 
Lepperts,  even  when  I  used  to  believe  I  loved 
him. 

I  was  to  go  as  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  and  it 
seemed  a  good  idea  to  tag  papa  along  as  Both- 
well,  and  do  up  mamma  for  Queen  Elizabeth. 
She  was  willing  enough — mamma  is  a  darling 
when  my  pleasure  is  at  stake ;  bvit  papa  resisted 
and  resisted,  till  finally  it  came  out  he  wanted 
to  be  a  bandit.  He  had  been  to  three  fancy- 
dress  balls  in  his  whole  life,  and  each  time  as 
a  bandit,  and  he  seemed  to  think  it  was  origi 
nal  and  striking.  He  said  that  anybody 
could-  tell  a  bandit  was  a  bandit  a  mile  off, 
and  that  for  an  elderly  man  making  a  fool  of 
himself,  a  bandit  always  seemed  to  him  the 
67 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


least  silly  of  the  lot.  But  when  I  talked  of  a 
shining  cuirass,  and  what  a  stunning  group 
we'd  make,  and  found  that  he  had  mixed  up 
Bothwell  with  the  man  who  had  invented 
printing — and  had  teased  and  flattered  and 
bullied  him — he  gave  in  about  being  a  bandit, 
and  said,  "  Oh,  hell,  have  it  your  own  way, 
my  dear." 

Well,  there  we  were  at  nine  o'clock  that 
evening,  papa  smoking  a  cigar  and  gasping  in 
his  breastplate,  mamma  really  beautiful  as 
Queen  Elizabeth,  and  I  very  pleased  with  my 
self  as  Mary  Queen  of  Scots ;  and  all  of  us 
tremendously  excited  and  gay,  and  the  Daunt 
less  standing  on  the  front  gravel  with  its  gas 
lights  lit,  and  full  of  rugs  for  a  long  ride, 
when  the  butler  came  running  to  say  that 
Albert  had  been  taken  with  cramps.  Of  all 
times  to  choose  for  cramps,  think  of  him  pick 
ing  out  that  night  of  the  ball ! 

Papa  went  off  to  make  short  work  of  the 
cramps,  and  came  back  looking  very  de 
pressed. 

68      '- 


The  Hobgoblinest  Place  on  the  Map 

"  Tell  them  to  send  for  the  doctor,"  he  said. 
"  I  don't  know  what's  the  matter  with  him, 
but  he's  groaning  horribly,  and  needs  looking 
after  quick." 

While  mamma  went  off  to  telephone,  papa 
began  to  do  fuss-cat  about  the  Dauntless. 
Papa's  a  brave  man  in  most  things,  and  his 
courage  was  about  the  only  capital  he  came 
West  with ;  but  it  balked  at  running  the  tour 
ing  car  single-handed.  There  was  never  such 
an  old  woman  on  the  bubble  question.  He 
can  get  more  wear  and  tear  out  of  one  sooty 
spark  plug,  more  nervous  worry,  desperation, 
and  despair,  than  most  men  from  a  whole 
lifetime  of  crime  or  politics ;  and  that's  where 
Albert  had  this  awful  hold  on  him.  He  had 
quite  got  it  into  his  head — helped  by  Albert, 
of  course — that  without  this  mechanical  hu 
man  wonder  it  was  hopeless  to  expect  the 
Dauntless  to  run  a  yard.  If  she  snaps  a  wire, 
or  sticks  anywhere,  papa  always  looks  on  at 
Albert  as  though  he  was  watching  Edison  in 
vent  the  first  phonograph.  I  hate  to  say  it 
11  69 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


about  my  own  father,  but  he's  afraid  of  an 
automobile,  and  spoils  anything  like  a  trip  by 
his  remarks.  He's  always  saying,  "  We  must 
remember  that  shed ;  Albert  and  I  could  easily 
push  her  in  that  shed  " ;  or,  "  That's  a  very 
handy-looking  little  machine  shop ;  I  wonder  if 
it's  on  the  telephone  ?  Setzer  and  Hoffman  "- 
and  then  he  keeps  repeating  Setzer  and  Hoff 
man  for  the  next  half  hour  for  fear  he  might 
forget  it.  And  when  it  comes  to  a  choice  of 
routes,  he  has  a  pathetic  desire  to  follow  the 
trolley !  That's  papa  for  you — as  an  automo- 
bilist !  And,  like  all  those  people  who  borrow 
trouble,  he  has  found  it  by  the  barrelful — and 
once  had  to  sleep  out  all  night  in  the  woods. 

So  there  was  papa,  looking  perfectly  superb 
in  his  brass  cuirass  and  theater  boots,  march 
ing  up  and  down,  jingling  like  the  fire  irons, 
and  trying  to  find  a  million  reasons  why  we 
shouldn't  take  the  Dauntless.  He  wanted  to 
get  the  horses  out,  and  drive,  and  grew  crosser 
and  crosser  as  I  told  him  he  was  a  great  big 
coward,  and  the  disgrace  of  the  family.  What 
70 


The  Hobgoblinest  Place  on  the  Map 

was  the  good  of  a  four-thousand-dollar  car, 
in  tiptop  shape,  if  it  couldn't  be  trusted  for  an 
eighteen-mile  run?  Papa  said  that  was  all 
very  well,  but  a  pretty  figure  he'd  cut  trying 
to  push  it  in  shining  armor,  and  stumbling 
over  his  broadsword  in  the  dark.  In  fact,  he 
was  so  morbid  and  apprehensive  and  harrow 
ing  that  it  was  about  as  easy  as  persuading  a 
French  aristocrat  in  the  Revolution  to  get 
aboard  the  tumbril  that  was  to  land  him  at  the 
guillotine.  Then,  after  he  had  been  reduced  to 
pulp,  he  said  weakly  that  he  would  leave  it  to 
mamma  to  decide,  and  threw  himself  on  a  hall 
chair  and  waited — to  think  up  fresh  reasons 
why  it  was  impossible  to  take  the  Dauntless 
without  Albert. 

I  fully  thought  she'd  join  with  him  and  in 
sist  on  the  horses,  but  for  once,  in  a  family 
disagreement,  she  came  out  splendidly  on  the 
right  side — my  side — and  said,  "  Oh,  my  dear, 
it  would  be  perfectly  crazy  not  to  take  the  car, 
when  it  is  standing  there  all  ready."  So  there 
was  nothing  left  for  papa  to  do  but  sigh,  and 
71 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


say,  "  Oh,  all  right,  only  don't  blame  me  if 
anything  happens."  And  we  both  cheered  him 
up  by  saying  how  handsome  he  looked,  and 
what  a  pity  it  was  he  couldn't  dress  like  that 
every  day,  and  how  he  was  sure  to  be  the  hit 
of  the  evening.  Indeed,  it  wasn't  his  fault 
that  he  was  such  an  automobile  fraidy-calf, 
but  more  that  wily  Albert's,  who  had  deliber 
ately  discouraged  him  from  the  beginning  so 
as  to  boom  his  own  importance.  And  that 
night  in  the  woods  had  cost  papa  all  the  little 
assurance  he  ever  had  had,  and  had  inclined 
him  to  take  a  dark  view  of  his  own  capacity, 
and  what  the  Dauntless  was  likely  to  do  if  Al 
bert  wasn't  there  to  over-awe  it. 

We  started  off  so  nicely  that  papa  began  to 
chirp  up,  and  after  a  mile  or  two  even  bragged 
a  little,  and  spun  around  corners  in  grand 
style ;  and  when  we  caught  up  with  the  Lep- 
perts  and  passed  them,  papa  was  as  pleased  as 
he  could  be,  and  never  said  Albert  once,  ex 
cept  to  ask  about  the  doctor,  and  how  he 
hoped  it  wasn't  serious.  We  made  Ydle  Wyld 
72 


The  Hobgoblinest  Place  on  the  Map 

in  rattling  time,  and  even  papa  was  thankful 
we  hadn't  brought  the  horses  as  we  broke  into 
the  crowd  of  cars  and  carriages  and  four-in- 
hands  that  were  seething  in  the  place  that  had 
been  set  apart  for  them.  It  was  said  the  Lamp- 
mans  had  invited  eight  hundred,  but  it  looked 
more  like  eight  thousand,  when  we  struck  that 
circus  and  bored  our  way  through  the  crush 
to  where  we  were  told  to  park. 

Of  course,  the  ball  itself  was  too  wonderful 
for  anything,  and  I  never  fully  realized  before 
what  clothes  could  do  for  people.  The  change 
from  business  suits  to  cloth  of  gold  and  armor 
and  velvet  and  lace  and  white  satin,  was  aston 
ishing  ;  and  as  for  the  women,  it  only  seemed  to 
need  powder  and  patches  to  make  everyone  of 
them  a  raving  beauty.  It  made  me  feel  badly, 
at  first,  just  to  find  myself  one  of  a  crowd, 
for  I  had  expected —  Oh,  well — thought  that 
they'd  fall  dead  at  the  sight  of  me ;  and  it  cost 
me  a  pang  when  they  didn't.  But  after  a 
while  a  few  got  excited  about  me,  and  the  few 
swelled  and  swelled,  and  it  all  came  out  right. 
73 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


A  ball  is  an  awful  ruthless  affair,  and  a  girl's 
pride  is  at  stake,  you  know,  to  have  a  little 
court  around  her  and  attract  attention.  Be 
sides,  I  had  to  show  Charlie  Lepperts  what  a 
good  thing  he  had  lost,  and  just  had  to  be  a 
success.  Well,  I  was,  though  I  do  say  it  my 
self,  and  you  didn't  have  to  look  very  far  to 
see  which  was  the  most  popular  girl  in  that 
Gothic  hall.  Why  shouldn't  I  say  it?  The 
old  soldier  brags  of  his  battles,  and  balls  are 
ours,  you  know,  and  why  shouldn't  we  brag, 
too?  And  everybody  fell  over  everybody,  and 
shoved  and  pushed  to  get  in  a  dance  with 
darling  little  me. 

Occasionally  I'd  remember  Mr.  Marsden, 
and  my  Cinderella  date  at  two  o'clock,  and 
tingle  all  over  with  the  most  delicious  thrills. 
I  didn't  know  what  he  meant  to  do,  but  I  felt 
sure  it  was  something  tremendous,  and  hoped 
from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  it  wouldn't  all 
go  wrong.  It  was  exhilarating  to  be  a  fieroine 
of  wild  romance,  and  to  feel  that  out  there  in 
the  dark  was  a  mysterious  stranger  mysteri- 
74 


The  Hobgoblinest  Place  on  the  Map 

ously  plotting,  and  whispering  my  name  to  the 
stars,  you  know.  At  least  I  hope  he  did !  At 
any  rate,  I  felt  sure  he  was  pretty  busy  doing 
something,  and  even  in  the  maddest  whirl  I 
kept  a  sharp  eye  on  my  watch. 

At  a  quarter  of  two,  just  as  I  had  finished 
an  extra  with  a  delightful  young  troubadour  * 
named  Edgar  Smith,  I  decided  it  was  time  to 
draw  out  and  find  papa.  So,  chasing  up 
mamma,  and  accepting  the  troubadour's  es 
cort,  we  three  made  a  course  for  one  of  the 
supper  rooms,  where  a  passing  brigand  told 
us  he  was  playing  poker.  Sure  enough  he 
was,  snugged  cozily  in  a  corner  with  a  police 
man,  Alfred  the  Great,  and  Captain  Kidd ;  and 
mighty  hard  work  it  was,  too,  to  drag  him  out. 
Papa's  like  the  pig  that  you  had  to  pull  his 
head  off  to  get  to  a  party,  and  his  tail  off  to 
get  him  away.  He  didn't  want  to  come  a  bit, 
and  said,  "  Oh,  bother !  What's  the  hurry  ?  " 

I  let  him  play  out  his  game  and  lose  eight 
dollars,  and  then  yanked  him  off,  saying  I  was 
a  little  faint  and  wanted  to  leave.    There  was 
75 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


more  delay  in  saying  good  night  to  our  host 
and  hostess,  and  it  was  all  of  two  when  we 
packed  into  the  Dauntless  and  choo-chooed 
away.  It  was  the  nicest  part  of  the  ball  to  lie 
back  in  the  cushions  and  feel  that  the  Marsden 
moment  had  arrived.  If  men  get  a  lot  of 
pleasure  in  doing  things  and  taking  the  lead, 
I  guess  there's  something  to  be  said  for  the 
girl's  side  of  it,  too — being  the  lovely  prize, 
you  know,  and  just  waiting  for  the  Beautiful 
Prince  to  hatchet  his  way  to  her.  So  I  rubbed 
on  a  little  powder  in  the  dark,  shut  my  lovely 
eyes,  and  waited  and  wondered.  I  didn't  know 
what  was  coming,  of  course,  and  was  almost 
as  much  bluffed  as  anybody  when  the  silly  en 
gine  began  to  miss — yes,  slowed  down,  and 
finally  stopped  in  the  pitchiest,  inkiest,  hob- 
goblinest  place  on  the  map,  about  seven  miles 
from  Ydle  Wyld  and  ten  from  anywhere  else ! 


VI 


THE    G.    R.    A.    T.    TO    THE    RESCUE 


12 


VI 


THE   G.    R.    A.    T.    TO   THE   RESCUE 

APA  said  a  swear,  unbuckled 
his  sword,  and  then  got  out 
to  crank.  He  cranked  and 
cranked,  and  still  nothing  hap 
pened  to  speak  of,  except  a  poor  little  cough 
when  once  or  twice  she  started.  I  suspected 
it  meant  too  little  gasoline,  and  told  him  so ;  a 
thin  mixture  always  stops  with  a  cough,  and  an 
over-rich  one  with  a  dull,  heavy  sound.  But 
papa,  with  the  dreary  thoroughness  of  a  rail 
road  president,  tried  out  the  primary  circuit, 
79 


Tkree  Speeds  Forward 


then  the  secondary,  then  the  buzzer,  and  by  that 
time  anything  you  said  to  him  he  took  as  an  in 
sult.  It  was  disturbing  not  to  be  certain 
whether  this  was  part  of  Mr.  Marsden's  plan, 
or  a  horrible  accident  that  might  spoil  every 
thing.  Anyway,  we  were  stuck  sure,  and  I  was 
made  to  get  out  and  hold  a  horrid  lamp  while 
papa  fumed  and  swore. 

The  simplest  adjustments  are  troublesome 
to  make  at  night,  and  take  ten  times  longer. 
You  lose  your  tools,  burn  your  ringers,  and 
gradually  work  up  to  a  state  of  fiendish  ex 
asperation.  Papa  took  out  the  four  plugs, 
connected  them  up,  and  then  thought  the  bat 
teries  had  given  out  because  they  didn't  spark. 
It  was  as  much  as  my  life  was  worth  to  tell 
him  he  hadn't  ground  them  properly,  and  at 
first  he  nearly  snapped  my  head  off.  Don't 
think  I'm  blaming  him.  A  gas  engine  would 
try  a  saint ;  and  there  he  was,  all  trussed  up  in 
shining  armor,  and,  as  he  said,  feeling  forty 
different  kinds  of  a  damn  fool. 

But  he  was  immensely  impressed  when,  with 
80  - 


The  G.  R.  A.    T.  to  the  Rescue 

the  aid  of  a  big  wrench,  I  had  the  four  plugs 
sparking  nicely.  He  was  just  recovering  some 
of  his  usual  geniality,  when  he  laid  a  finger 
on  that  wrench,  and  got  thirty  thousand  volts 
through  him  !  What  he  said  can't  be  repeated, 
though  part  of  it  was  lost  by  his  leaping  in 
the  air.  But  the  shock  did  him  good,  and  I 
went  up  ten  points  as  a  gas  engineer.  He  said 
quite  humbly  to  tell  him  what  to  do,  and  he'd 
do  it,  and  rolled  up  his  sleeves,  and  got  out  a 
wad  of  cotton  waste  as  though  he  was  in  for 
an  all  night  job.  I  kept  him  there  for  an 
hour — the  longest  hour  of  his  life,  as  he  said 
afterwards — and  he  was  so  willing  and  patient 
and  obedient  that  it  almost  brought  the  tears 
to  my  eyes. 

I  was  right  about  that  cough,  and  an  ex 
amination  of  the  carburetor  showed  that  it 
wouldn't  flood,  and  that  consequently  the  en 
gine  was  getting  no  gas.  I  made  poor  papa 
take  it  all  to  pieces,  and  run  hairpins  through 
the  spray  nozzle,  and  sandpaper  the  guides  of 
the  float.  Then  he  put  it  back,  and  still  there 
81 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


was  nothing  doing.  The  next  stage  was  to 
order  papa  underneath  the  car,  and  make  him 
break  all  the  gasoline  connections  to  see  if 
there  wasn't  a  stoppage  somewhere  in  the  line. 
He  had  to  do  this  in  the  dark,  of  course,  be 
cause  it  wasn't  safe  to  hold  a  lighted  lamp 
too  close;  and  it  was  a  most  bumpy  and  de 
pressing  performance  for  a  Bothwell  at  2.30 
A.M.  Then  he  ran  wires  through  the  silly 
tubes,  and  blew  through  them,  and  screwed 
them  back ;  and  there,  if  you  please,  was  the 
carburetor  stone  dry,  and  not  a  penny  the 
better  for  his  work.  Then  mamma,  who  was 
shivering  with  a  lap  robe  around  her  like  an 
Indian,  said  she  was  sure  that  the  tank  was 
empty.  And  papa  said,  "  By  Jove,  perhaps  it 
is !  "  And  I  said,  "  What  idiots  we  are  never 
to  have  looked!  " 

But  it  wasn't  empty.  Papa  put  his  finger 
in  and  drew  it  out,  all  wet.  It  was  only  down 
about  four  inches  from  the  top,  and  there  were 
gallons  and  gallons.  Mamma  asked  us  why 
we  didn't  turn  the  handle  some  more,  and  I 
82  -I 


The  G.  R.  A.    T.  to  the  Rescue 

was  just  on  the  point  of  explaining  that  there 
was  no  good  cranking  when  your  carburetor 
was  out  of  whack,  when  papa  took  her  at  her 
word,  and  the  miserable  old  engine  started. 
Yes,  and  ran  beautifully,  chump-chumping 
like  an  '06. 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  them,"  said 
mamma  complacently,  "  but  I  felt  sure  Al 
bert  would  have  turned  that  handle,  and  that's 
why  I  suggested  it.  Why,  I've  seen  Albert 
turn  it  for  an  hour  at  a  time,  till  I  waited 
for  him  to  drop  dead !  " 

It  did  not  seem  worth  while  to  argue  with 
her  while  the  engine  was  so  evidently  on  her 
side,  and  I  didn't  even  try.  Besides,  I  was  too 
tired  and  sleepy  to  care  very  much.  It  was 
running,  that  was  the  great  thing,  and  if  it 
chose  to  defy  all  the  laws  of  mechanics,  why 
should  I  make  a  fuss  about  it?  By  this  time 
poor  papa  was  half  dead  with  worry  and  ex 
haustion,  and  it  showed  how  chewed  up  he  was 
that  he  asked  me  to  take  the  wheel. 

"  I've  had  all  the  automobiling  I  can  stand," 
83 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


he  said.  "  For  Heaven's  sake,  let  me  lie  back 
and  smoke  a  cigar,  and  get  the  taste  of  that 
filthy  stuff  out  of  my  gullet !  " 

So  we  all  hopped  in,  and  I  speeded  her  up 
with  an  uneasy  feeling  that  it  was  all  too  good 
to  last.  Sure  enough,  we  hadn't  gone  fifty 
yards,  when  we  began  to  miss  and  splutter  and 
die  all  over  again.  Then  the  engine  gave  a 
dreadful  cough,  and  went  finally  and  com 
pletely  out  of  business. 

I  -was  for  getting  out  and  having  another 
fight  with  it,  but  papa  laid  his  hand  on  my 
arm  and  said  No,  he'd  be  hanged  if  he'd  mon 
key  with  the  blankety-blank  thing  again,  or 
allow  me  to  do  it,  either.  Said  we'd  just  wait 
there  till  the  ball  broke  up,  and  somebody  hap 
pened  along  to  tow  us,  or  give  us  a  lift.  I 
never  saw  the  bounce  so  taken  out  of  papa ; 
even  his  voice  was  changed  and  dreary,  as 
though  he  had  suddenly  grown  twenty  years 
older  in  an  hour.  So  we  all  sat  there  in  the 
most  awful  gloom,  and  said  things  about  that 
engine  that  ought  to  have  made  it  squirm. 
84  -- 


The  G.  R.  A.   T.  to  the  Rescue 

Papa  swore  he  had  never  liked  autos,  had 
never  approved  of  them,  and  had  only  bought 
one  under  an  insane  compulsion.  Said  he  had 
known  only  one  human  being  who  could  make 
a  car  go,  and  that  was  Albert;  and  rubbed  in 
horse,  horse,  horse,  and  gave  a  list  of  the 
things  he'd  eat,  from  his  hat  to  a  pair  of  gum 
boots,  if  he'd  ever  allow  himself  to  be  caught 
out  again  without  Albert. 

We  were  in  these  depths  of  misery  and  de 
pression  when  we  heard  the  sound  of  a  car 
coming  along  behind  us.  Papa  jumped  out 
and  swung  the  lantern  in  the  middle  of  the 
road,  so  as  to  stop  it.  There  was  a  glare  of 
lamps,  a  whir  of  gears,  and  then  a  man's  voice 
asking  through  the  dark,  "  What's  the  mat 
ter?"  As  far  as  we  could  judge,  he  seemed 
most  friendly  and  accommodating,  though  at 
a  ten  yards'  distance,  and  with  his  engine  run 
ning  idle  it  was  impossible  to  follow  the  con 
versation.  But  a  moment  after,  we  saw  papa 
leading  him  up  to  us,  and  lo  and  behold,  it 
was  Mr.  Marsden!  Yes,  in  evening  dress, 
13  85 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


and  a  fur  coat  with  a  big  collar,  and  so  con 
cerned  and  helpful  and  kind,  that,  if  he  had 
been  Albert,  papa  would  scarcely  have  been 
more  delighted. 

"  Here's  an  angel  from  heaven,"  said  papa 
genially,  by  way  of  introduction,  "  and  we  are 
going  to  be  tied  on  behind  and  towed  home." 

Mr.  Marsden  raised  his  hat,  and  begged  per 
mission  to  ask  a  few  questions  about  our  car. 

"  I've  had  a  great  deal  of  experience,"  he 
said,  "  and  if  she  hasn't  a  fracture  anywhere, 
perhaps  I  can  find  out  what's  the  matter,  and 
put  it  right." 

Papa  gazed  at  him  with  grateful  incredulity, 
and  then  talked  carburetor  and  gasoline  line 
for  a  solid  five  minutes.  He  had  learned  an 
awful  lot  in  that  hour,  and  rattled  it  off  like 
an  expert. 

"  Permit  me  to  look  at  the  carburetor,"  said 
Mr.  Marsden,  as  though  he  was  asking  the 
greatest  favor.  Papa  graciously  said  he 
might,  and  held  the  lamp  while  Mr.  Marsden 
jumped  the  plunger  up  and  down,  and  thought 
86  "- 


The  G.  R.  A.    T.  to  the  Rescue 

and  thought.  Then  he  put  his  knife  in  the 
commutator,  and  sampled  the  buzz  on  each 
contact.  Then  with  his  hands  he  traced  the 
gasoline  line  underneath  the  wagon. 

"  Would  you  mind  getting  out  ?  "  he  said  to 
me,  as  though  he  had  never  seen  me  in  his 
whole  life  before,  and  looking  wonderfully 
handsome  and  distinguished  in  his  white 
waistcoat.  "  I'd  like  to  see  the  tank — if  you 
really  don't  mind,  and  if  it  is  not  too  much 
trouble." 

I  didn't  mind,  and  it  wasn't  too  much  trou 
ble;  and  then  he  lifted  off  the  seat,  with  the 
same  quiet,  resourceful  doctor-manner  that  he 
had  shown  all  through.  He  undid  the  screw- 
top,  and,  carrying  it  well  away  from  the  car, 
examined  it  carefully  by  the  flicker  of  papa's 
lantern. 

"  Here's  your  trouble,"  he  said. 

"  I  don't'  see  anything  wrong  with  it,"  re 
marked  papa,  gazing  at  it  as  though  it  might 
suddenly  jump  up  and  bite  him. 

"  No  air  aperture — that's  all,"  said  Mr. 
87 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


Marsden.  '  The  air  aperture  is  choked  with 
dirt.  Your  tank  feeds  by  gravity,  doesn't  it? 
Well,  then,  it  can't  flow  without  air,  any  more 
than  a  kerosene  can,  if  you  don't  jab  a  hole  in 
the  corner.  Same  thing  precisely." 

"  Great  Scott !  "  cried  papa. 

"  Why,  if  you'd  only  asked  me  I  could  have 
told  you  that  myself,"  spoke  up  mamma. 

"  Oh,  how  simple !  "  cried  I.  "  And  yet  we 
might  have  stayed  here  a  week  and  never 
found  it  out !  " 

"  It  cost  me  a  lot  of  time  myself,  once,"  said 
Mr.  Marsden  deprecatorily,  as  though  he 
didn't  want  to  shame  us  by  his  superiority. 
"  It's  about  the  most  effective  way  of  killing 
a  gas  engine  I  can  think  of." 

"  Let's  put  it  back  and  make  sure  you  are 
right,"  said  papa,  still  unable  to  believe  the 
good  news. 

Well,  of  course,  with  a  little  tickling  she 

went  off  like  a  shot — with  a  great  big  honest 

chug-chug  that  warmed  one's  heart  to  hear 

it.     After  you  have  been  stuck  for  hours,  I 

88  " 


The   G.  R.  A.    T.  to  the  Rescue 

don't  know  any  sweeter  music  than  an  engine 
that  has  suddenly  made  up  its  mind  to  reform, 
and  take  you  home.  You  are  a  horse  person, 
I  know,  and  this  doesn't  appeal  to  you.  Well, 
suppose  every  now  and  then  your  horse  fell 
dead,  and  it  was  up  to  you  to  revive  it! 
Wouldn't  it  be  a  blessed  moment  when  the 
corpse  would  stagger  to  its  feet  and  neigh? 
Laugh,  if  you  like,  but  I  guess  you'd  call  it 
music,  too,  wouldn't  you? 

Papa  was  so  grateful  to  Mr.  Marsden  that 
he  hardly  knew  how  to  say  it.  He  wrung  his 
hand  again  and  again  and  overflowed ;  and 
anybody  looking  on  would  have  thought  he 
had  just  saved  all  our  lives — Mr.  Marsden,  I 
mean.  And  so  he  had,  of  course,  and  more, 
too ;  for  papa  was  morbidly  conscious  of  his 
armor  and  pirate  boots,  and  knew  what  a 
figure  he  had  cut  before  a  whole  dragful  of 
people  home  from  the  ball.  Mr.  Marsden 
had  rescued  him  from  a  horrible  mortification, 
because  no  one  could  have  helped  laughing, 
you  know — what  with  his  having  a  big  lick 
89 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


of  grease  over  one  eye,  and  rattling  when  he 
walked,  and  covered  with  tin  daggers ! 

"  May  I  not  come  part  of  the  way  with 
you  ?"  asked  Mr.  Marsden.  "  It  isn't  right  to 
expose  these  ladies  to  another  breakdown,  and 
possibly  I  might  again  be  of  assistance." 

He  hadn't  got  the  words  out  of  his  mouth 
before  papa  had  closed  with  his  offer.  It  was 
snapped  up  like  lightning.  Papa  had  no 
shame  left,  and  held  on  to  him  like  a  life 
belt.  He'd  hardly  let  him  go  back  to  his  own 
car  to  order  his  chauffeur  to  follow,  and  was 
on  pins  and  needles  lest  he'd  never  come  back. 
And  the  things  he  said  in  that  interval !  Mr. 
Marsden's  ears  must  have  tingled.  I  never 
saw  papa  so  worked  up  over  anybody  in  his 
life,  and  naturally  I  added  my  little  mite,  and 
mamma  threw  in  hers.  It  was  a  regular 
Marsden  boom,  with  all  of  us  trying  to  outdo 
the  other,  as  though  there  was  a  prize  for  the 
one  who  could  say  the  nicest  things  about  him. 
Papa  won  easily  by  talking  the  loudest  and 
banging  on  the  mud  guard  to  emphasize  his 
90 


You  and  I   have  got  to  be  friends  !  ' " 


The  G.  R.  A.    T.  to  the  Rescue 

remarks,  indicating  that  he  was  going  to  spend 
the  rest  of  his  life  in  being  good  to  Mr. 
Marsden. 

"  I  didn't  know  there  were  men  like  that 
left!  "  he  exclaimed.  "  It  makes  you  feel  that 
human  nature  has  been  misrepresented;  and 
he's  so  unaffected  and  generous  that  you'd 
almost  think  the  favor  was  on  our  side.  A 
perfect  stranger  who  will  be  good  to  you  at 
four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  put  himself 
to  no  end  of  trouble  for  people  he  doesn't 
know  from  Adam — I'd  like  to  give  him  a 
house  and  lot !  " 

Then  Mr.  Marsden  came  back,  so  brisk  and 
kind  and  jolly  and  full  of  fun,  that  the  con 
tagion  of  it  seemed  to  spread,,  and  we  all  began 
to  laugh  ourselves.  Papa  gave  Mr.  Marsden 
the  driving  seat,  and  said  he  could  have  the 
sword,  too,  if  he  wanted  it,  not  to  speak  of 
the  breastplate.  Perhaps  it  doesn't  sound  very 
funny  now,  but  we  roared  over  it  at  the  time, 
because  we  were  all  keyed  up,  and  in  the 
humor  to  make  a  joke  of  anything.  And  it 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


was  most  exhilarating  to  whiz  through  the 
pitchy  black  roads,  and  think  how,  only  a  few 
minutes  before,  we  had  been  shivering  like 
lost  souls  beside  two  tons  of  refractory  iron. 

Well,  so  we  all  got  home,  and  as  we  stood 
there  on  the  gravel,  hardly  knowing  how  to 
separate,  nor  very  much  wanting  to,  mamma 
said  she  hoped  our  acquaintance  wouldn't  end 
there,  and  that  her  day  was  Friday.  And  papa 
said,  "  You  bet,  of  course  you  must  come," 
and  demanded  his  card,  explaining  that  he  was 
Mr.  Tillinghast,  of  the  K.  and  O. 

"  I'm  afraid  to  give  it  to  you,"  said  Mr. 
Marsden,  reluctantly  drawing  a  card  from  his 
pocket,  and  smiling  queerly  as  he  held  on  to 
it  tight,  and  wouldn't  let  papa  take  it.  "  I've 
been  unfortunate  enough  to  incur — Well,  it  has 
to  come  out  sooner  or  later,  Mr.  Tillinghast, 
and  why  not  now?  I  am  George  Marsden." 


92 


VII 
CASHING  IN 


14 


VII 


CASHING    IN 

>EORGE  MARSDEN !  " 

There  was  a  staggering  pause. 
"  Mr.  Marsden,"  said  papa, 
when  he  had  somehow  got  his 
breath,  "  I'm  an  old  fellow,  and  I  dare  say 
I'm  pretty  pigheaded,  but  I'm  not  too  old  and 
too  pigheaded  to  admit  having  made  a  mis 
take.  You  and  I  have  got  to  be  friends,  and 
there's  my  hand  on  it !  " 

We  all  gave  him  our  hands  on  it,  and  I 
added  a  little  squeeze  extra.     Then  he  asked 
was  he  to  run  the  car  into  the  barn,  and  papa 
95 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


said  Yes,  and  would  I  show  him  the  way. 
And — and — wasn't  it  foolish  of  him  to  risk 
everything  by  kissing  me  in  the  dark! — just 
when  he  had  made  such  headway,  and  broken 
into  society !  I  was  awfully  cross  about  it, 
and  made  a  great  favor  of  forgiving  him. 
But  he  said  he  really  couldn't  help  it,  and  so 
I  let  him  off  with  a  dreadful  warning — while 
he  held  my  hand,  and  listened  like  an  angel, 
only  interrupting  to  say  he  loved  me,  and  that 
it  was  the  happiest  night  of  his  life.  And  then 
I  asked  him  was  it  truly?  And  he  seemed  to 
think  the  proper  answer  was  to  kiss  me  again 
— which  perhaps  it  was. 


96 


VIII 


THREE    YEARS  AFTERWARDS 


VIII 


THREE   YEARS    AFTERWARDS 


O  you  know  what  he  had  done — 
I  mean,  besides  paying  Albert 
a  hundred  dollars  for  those 
cramps  ?  Substituted  another 
screw  top  to  the  gasoline  tank,  with  a  watch- 
spring  attachment  that  was  timed  to  close  the 
air  aperture  at  the  end  of  forty  minutes !  And 
then,  under  the  cover  of  the  darkness,  he  gives 
us  back  the  original  nicely  plugged  with  dirt. 
You  couldn't  get  ahead  of  a  man  like  that, 
could  you?  When  he  really  proposed,  I  saw 
99 


Three  Speeds  Forward 


there  was  no  good  putting  up  a  fight — what 
was  the  use  ? — so  I  took  him.  Guess  I  had  to, 
just  to  save  trouble. 

Glad  I  did  it,  now. 

There  have  to  be  a  few  happy  couples,  you 
know,  just  to  balance  up. 

Oh,  yes,  I'm  crazy  to  have  you  meet  my 
husband !  Come  along,  I  guess  we'll  find  him 
in  the  front  part  of  the  ship,  exercising  Olaff. 
That's  his  job,  you  know,  while  it's  mine  to 
run  the  baby.  Yes,  that's  my  little  cherub  over 
there,  kicking  the  old  gentleman.  That's 
papa's  end  of  it,  you  know.  In  this  family 
everybody  works  but  mamma. 


THE    END 


(1) 


100 


JUL  9    1982 


DATE  DUE 


II II  Illl 


83  7597 


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